Twilight Rambles
by LJ Summers
Summary: A collection of drabbles for 2012, set in any AU, AH, or canon environment from Stephenie Meyer's Twilight. I claim no copyright of any of the stories herein. I still occasionally take requests. : Rated T - because I like it like that.
1. I Will Find a Way

**A/N: Yes, I'm opening another Drabble Compilation, be afraid!**

This one was written for TwiFicPics, and was inspired by a banner by vbfb1 for which a link will be on my profile.

Pairing: Edward/Bella. AH.

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><p><strong>I Will Find a Way <strong>

"I'm trying," she assured him, her voice quiet. "How are you doing in the meanwhile?"

Edward sighed and hitched himself over to his back. "So tired, sweetheart. The radiation's working, but I'm just so tired." He compressed his lips against the strange desolation of fatigue; he never wanted that reflected in his voice – she already had so much to worry about.

His fiancée, Isabella, was in the Air Force Reserve as an Operations Research Analyst. After her father's death in combat years ago, she had wanted more than anything to help her country and put her education to good use. So she was a Captain, now. Captain Isabella Swan, stationed across the country at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois.

He heard her sigh. She was on the phone on base and it always sounded odd, to him. "I'm so sorry. I will get there. I will. It's just that –"

"I know."

Her voice held a smile. "Now, don't go flirting with the techs, all right?"

With a grin, he teased, "I don't know. That Rosalie is sure hot." He was rewarded by Isabella's chuckle. Continuing, he made his voice light and airy. "So's her husband, by the way."

"I'll tell him you said so." Then, "Damn." Her voice caught audibly. "Honey, I've got to go."

An emptiness opened up within his chest – it was filled with her when they were together, but while she was gone, he just ached for her with a cold void. "I know. Thanks for calling, Bella."

"I will find a way to get to you," she assured him, determination strong in her words. "I will."

He waited until she had hung up to give way to the tears in his eyes. Tears released in the pervasive exhaustion caused by his radiation treatments, in the violation of his body by the cancerous growth that had stricken his pelvic region. An unexpressed desolation tried to tighten his muscles against the perceived show of weakness, but he couldn't stop it. He needed his Bella. She had just said she'd marry him...

"Hey, future bro-in-law! I got your laptop, like you wanted."

Surprised, Ed blinked blearily up at the musclebound teddy bear who was also one of his care-givers here at the clinic. "Huh?"

"Okay, that my sister said you wanted. You might know her. She's wearing this pretty ring..."

"Oh yeah, her." The men exchanged wistful smiles. "Thank you, Emmett. I do appreciate it."

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><p>Phone calls alternated with email. Edward was finally able to tell her, "Bella? I'm being released tomorrow. And you're coming home soon, right?" There was a pause that made his heart drop to his knees. "Bella? Isabella Swan? Are you all right?"<p>

He heard her sniffle, heard the catch in her voice before she whispered, "I am so sorry, Edward. Damn it, I –"

He sat up, wincing and gasping in his own pain. "Sweetheart, what is it?" Loss tugged at him. "Please..."

"I've got orders, honey. All the new – well, I can't talk about it, but I've got orders and I have to go."

"No!" His voice was not the shout he felt in his heart – it was just a rasping echo. "No, you're in the Reserve and –"

"And we're at war."

"Oh, Isabella..."

He heard her swallowing back her tears. "I will find a way home to you. I need to see you, before. I'll figure out how."

"Marry me," he blurted.

Her choked voice gave way to an incredulous-sounding hiccough. "Edward? I already said I would. Don't you – don't you remember?"

He laughed. "Oh, my love. Of course I do. I meant can you marry me before you go? Like – like in one of those historical movies?"

His Bella's laugh was soft and intimate. "I – I can ask. But I will find a way, Edward."

Emotion filled him, blocking his throat. "I'll be waiting."

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><p>A fierce pounding awoke him from a recuperative nap four days later. "Edward?" Then, "Please, you have to be here..."<p>

The cloudy afternoon allowed little light to filter to his front porch but he didn't need to see her. He could hear the precious sound of her voice, of her fist on his door in their old knocking pattern. "Edward?"

"Oh, oh, oh," he gasped, moving more slowly than he wanted, his body still so sluggish in response to what he needed it to do. "Oh, Bella, Bella..."

Click. Slide. "Ooof!" came the trio of sounds as Captain Swan launched herself into his arms.

Then, it was quick apologies, quicker relocations, and finally, _finally_ her lips, her skin, his hands, her hair. Her thighs against his and –

He hissed. "Sorry. This is gonna be the worst wedding night in history, Bella."

Her lips against his throat, though she held her body lightly away from his, she said, "Not even. C'mon. Emmett's gonna get us to Vegas. I have ninety-six hours. Let's do this. I want to be your wife."

He nudged her so that she looked him in the eye. Hers were wet, as he knew his were. "I almost can't believe you made it back."

"I told you I'd find a way."

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><p><strong>AN: So, this will be just another collection of random ideas. :) Thanks for reading!**


	2. Dominance

**Dominance**

_Yellowknife, Northwest Territory, Canada - 1975_

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><p>"I don't think that is the best idea," Jasper said after taking me aside. "I know Edward was asked to play for the Prince of Wales when he visits, but he'd be in the spotlight, there, and it is possible that we'd be exposed."<p>

I nodded consideringly. "I do understand your concern, Jasper, but to turn down such an honor would be suspicious as well. And the British Secret Intelligence Service would then likely investigate. This could do the family irreparable harm."

The warrior – make no mistake, he could overtake me without even utilizing his empathic gift – stiffened. "So you won't change your mind?"

I kept his gaze with my own. "No, I won't." That this was the latest in a clash of wills was not lost on me. Jasper had a need to dominate – he was outstanding as a strategist and was a peerless warrior, or he would not have survived the Southern Vampire Wars – and he had been testing me, of late. The family had thus far given me full support, so his challenges had remained subtle and mostly between ourselves. "I am more than aware of possible repercussions, Jasper. And if there is a problem, my friends in Italy will likely pay us a social call. And you do not want to run across them. Not even once."

"They came to Laredo*," he told me, pride in his voice. "We've met. I'm not afraid of them; you're not the only one who knows the Volturi, Carlisle."

That was not something I had known, heretofore, and I felt my edge slipping. Quickly, I reviewed the possibilities.

If Jasper were to wrest control of the family from me, it would not necessarily be an evil thing. He would stay with our diet out of respect and love for his mate, Alice, and because it was easier for him not to be tormented with the feelings of his prey. Saving the lives of humans was my top priority; his leadership would not adversely affect that.

But he was not one who would be content to let the family be a family. I could see that his restlessness might have my family revert to Coven status, roaming here and there unless he himself found an interest that might keep them in one place. Rose wouldn't tolerate that, so Emmett wouldn't, either. They'd likely branch off. Esme would be uncomfortable as well. Would she and I be on our own, if Jasper "won?"

Would Edward choose to stay with Alice – arguably his favorite sibling – and travel rather than continue in a more stable existence with Esme and me? Our relationship was of long standing; I imagined he would continue with us as we had been before Rosalie entered our lives.

I worried, to be honest. Alice would lose her family, if Jasper won. Maybe not today, but eventually. And Esme would lose the children she had loved – each on their own terms – as we had grown as a family.

I could not bear to see my wife in pain, so I hit Jasper where he was weakest, though I sighed inwardly to do so.

"If the Volturi come, they will take Alice."

"No!" Jasper actually hissed at me, dropping into a protective stance though his mate was nowhere near us. "I'll –"

"You'll what, Jasper?" I asked, taking a risk and stepping into his personal space to confront him. Hand on his shoulder, I continued my assault. "You'll let yourself get killed, is what would happen. Aro would like nothing better than to have Alice's gift in the Guard. Yours, too, but hers would be a crown jewel for him. And then there's Edward – if he wasn't turned to ash defending Alice, he'd be taken in as well. And do you think Emmett would stand idly by? And Rosalie considers you her brother, remember. She truly does. They would all pay for your pride, Jasper. All of them, but Alice most of all. Even if they set the rest of us aflame, Aro would see to it that she joined them."

He shook his head in wordless denial, pushing to me a feeling of acquiescence.

Breathing deeply, I stepped back. "I prefer to keep this between us, if you don't mind. We care for you and Alice both, Jasper. You're a free man, able to go wherever and whenever you wish. I do hope, though, that you'll remain in my family."

He caught my eye and nodded, lips compressed.

Never again did he challenge me.

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><p>*Laredo: A nod to mothlights' story <em>5 Nights Near the Battlefield at Laredo<em>. It's on FFn and I highly recommend this one-shot.


	3. The Emrys Among the Celts

For my dear friend **Katmom**

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! May this be a beautiful year for you!

**The Emrys Among the Celts**

an Emrys and Isa Moment from the _She Was His First _AU

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><p>"It's the Emrys!" Whispers echoed among the dense trees of the valley. "The ever-living!"<p>

Cautious steps, wondering eyes, and a general lowering of weapons accompanied the hushed sounds as half-naked men and women emerged from thick, green shadows.

Isa smiled at them all, having heard of the painted people from her husband, Edward. The one the humans called _The Emrys_. "They remember you, my Edward? But surely, it's been hundreds of years." She spoke in the language of her own people, along the Rhine. The whispering ones in front of her spoke another tongue, one that Edward had taught her on their journey here.

"Their memories are long; their legends longer," her husband said, unwinding a golden band from his forearm. "They gave me one of the names I carry and names carry great weight. They remember. Come." Together, with the gift of gold, they stepped closer to the wide-eyed ones.

A young one, armed with a stone knife and bearing a blue whorl on his cheek, approached ahead, coming to greet them. "Are you flesh or Other?" he asked, clearly trying to sound firm and in charge.

Edward smiled, and the mere sight of his expression seemed to calm down the humans. Isa hid her own smile – she was not in their legends.

"I am flesh. Forever. And I have brought you a gift. Here."

The leader approached with care but did not touch the gold. "You honor us. I am Bran."

"I am Edward. This is Isa, my spouse."

"Isa..." the name traveled like river water in its course around the circle of the humans. "Is she as you?"

Edward took Isa's hand and held it out to the man named Bran. "She is. As I am, she is."

"She is a goddess..."

"No," Isa said, speaking out loud for the first time. "I am an immortal, but not a goddess." _Edward, do not let them go on so. I just want to see how they live._

"She wishes to see your homes. To see your craftsmanship. Isa has always been," Edward went on with a twinkle in his golden eyes, "very curious."

"Her eyes are as yours. She will want a boar."

"It was known to be my favorite, while I lived on the Island," Edward murmured to his wife. "Yes, she will," he said to the humans. "Show us where we might find one."

Thoughts sprang up around him as if from a spout of underground water that had broken through the surface of the earth. Various hunting grounds, memories of blood, of pain, of good eating...all wove through their memories and into Edward's own.

Later, having hunted and being invited to stay with the humans for a short while, Isa's thoughts came clearly to Edward's mind. She was watching two children play at knife-fighting. They were training for future battles, The Emrys understood, so his wife's reminder was not untimely.

_Edward, you need to tell them. They have to know what is coming._

He nodded. She was right; it was only fair. As much as he tried to stay out of the affairs of humans except as an observer, he felt a part of this land, somehow and he had to do what he could. To an extent.

He beckoned to the leader. "Bran. I have word for you."

"The Emrys has only to ask. What is it?"

Turning from the others to acquire a bit of privacy, Edward checked to see that Bran was not afraid – not now. He was concerned, however, and his thoughts flew over his two wives and his few surviving children.

"There are men coming. Men from a land over the Eastern Water. Men with many big knives who only seek to take land from others. They are called Romans and they will be wearing a lot of red cloth. They have much metal and will seek to use it to conquer your people. I wanted to warn you so you could be prepared."

"Will they not trade? Why would they come from so far to our land?"

"Their leaders are...men who seek to have more than they need. It is their nature."

"It isn't wise." Bran was a practical man. "The land can only hold so many. A man can only hold so much."

The Emrys nodded. "I know. It is as you say. But they will come. I wished to prepare you."

"Thank you Emrys. Your words are welcome. I will tell the others and we will watch for men in red cloth."

"Good man," Edward said, clapping the leader on his shoulder with great care. Still Bran started, clearly unsettled to have felt The Emrys' stone flesh meeting his own.

After some days, Edward and Isa left the Island Celts. And when, in six months' time, Julius Caesar invaded Britain, he did not make a permanent settlement there.

The Island would be a thorn in the Roman Empire's side for centuries.


	4. Quantum Theory

A/N: Another entry for a **TwiFicPics Weekly Challenge**. The theme was, **"Talk Nerdy to Me."** I did my best. lol

Pairing: Edward/Bella (AH)

The banner that I wrote for (because the banner artists compete anonymously for banners and writers can choose to be inspired by a banner for a IK or less drabble) was done by **VampsHaveLaws** and the link for it is here: h tt p: / / twificpics. com / ? p =13792

_WARNING_: Sexual references made by innuendo in this drabble. I still rate it as a T since it is not about sex, but a miscommunication, but...yeah. Read and decide, eh?

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><p><strong>Quantum Theory<strong>

**or**

**Schrödingerward **

"Now I know," Ms. Swan, the teaching assistant, said, crossing her legs – Damn! She had legs that went on for freaking days! – as she sat on the stool behind the lectern, "that you are all very smart. I know this. But _you_ need to know that _I_ am _obsessed_ with detail. I will read every single notation on every single graph and lab report you turn in to me. It's my job, and I am very good at my job."

Well, hell. She threw down a gauntlet and those of us in her section of Physics 319 had to take it up. Nothing major; none of us wanted to flunk out and have to take this over again. She scanned some of the homework assignments, pointing out that the drag co-efficient derivations, "Did not require apple pie, thank you. Pi would suffice. Points off!" she would state, and someone in the class would swear quietly.

Ms. Swan just arched a brow and smiled before moving on to the next "example."

I didn't know about the other guys, but I thought she was hot. Way too hot to be a physics grad student. If I had known _she_ was in the program, I wouldn't have spent two years in music before changing my major.

A couple of days later, I saw her at the 7-11, picking up some breath mints. She was wearing low-rise jeans and a short t-shirt that had a symbol string on it that translated to "I 8 Sum Pi."(1) But in order to figure that out, someone would have had to _stare right at her chest_ for a few seconds.

Or minutes, if they weren't good at math. Physics students typically were. I wondered if she was physicist enough to get my Schrödinger's Cat shirt. It was sick, but cool in a physics geek kind of way. I got up the nerve to ask her if she knew about superposition. Pulling off my glasses, I tried to smooth out my hair – I hated all that hair stuff my sister Rose made me use – and cleared my throat.

"Uh, Ms. Swan?"

She popped a mint in her mouth and I watched her move it out of the way of her tongue. I was _very_ glad I was wearing a big flannel shirt over my t-shirt. She blinked as if she didn't know who I was. "Yes?"

"I'm Ed - Edward Cullen. I - In your section. For Professor M - McCarty."

She nodded and looked down at her purse and then up at me again and then at my t-shirt and I wanted to hide it because it was my retro Marvel Comics shirt from ComicCon two years ago and she probably thought it was childish. I winced internally, but kept going because, well, she was hot and I thought that leaving then would be the worst thing I could do.

I was wrong. "I, uh, was wondering if you'd get a pussy. Cat. Shirt." _Crap!_ That was not the way that was supposed to come out. "Uh, I meant, you know, uh, the shirt with the cat? Schrödinger's?"

One brow arched. "You want to know if _I_ know about super_position_?" She moistened her lips and I swallowed. Hard. "Or if I play for both teams?"

My face went up on flames, right there in the 7-Eleven. I bailed.

Next time we met in our section, I wore a baseball cap and my glasses and sat way the hell in the back of the class. When she gave us a quiz, I didn't look at her, but I suddenly had an idea.

I knew how I could get her to notice me. I took out every letter in the charts in the quiz and spelled out a note as I solved the equations.

_Want to talk about superposition? _

And I signed my name at the very last graph. _Will she notice me now?_ I wondered, dropping my quiz packet upside down on her desk before I left the room.

Next session, she handed the quizzes back and I almost groaned when I saw my grade.

**Accuracy: B**

**Notations: F**

**Creativity: B**

**Guts: A**+

_**See me after class.**_

I took off my glasses for a second to look up at her. Her smile was more like a smirk, but I knew I would take what I could get.

And she really was good at demonstrating the quantum theory of superposition.(2)

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><p>(1) h tt p:  / apatheticthursday. net / postimages / i8pishirt. jpg

(2) **quantum theory of superposition as it applies to physics**: the quantum effects that are thought to affect only small atomic particles, also affect much larger and more complex structures. - Source: h tt p: / / h2g2. com / dna / h2g2 / A1073945


	5. A Birthday Elopement

A/N: For missrebecca's birthday. She's 21 this weekend!

Pairing: Edward/Bella. AH. Historical. Approximately 1821.

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><p><strong>A Birthday Elopement<strong>

He appeared in the snow under her chamber window. She had been watching and waiting, wondering, wishing...

"Are you ready?" His whisper was rough with exhaustion as he beckoned. The light of the moon glinted off his ruddy hair. "I've got the carriage waiting at the end of the street."

Heart pounding in her breast, she nodded, her lace sleeping cap bobbing. "I am. How do we do this? What about my things?"

"Toss them down to me, my lady, and then drop yourself. I'll catch you."

Dubious, she bit her lip and considered the differences in her height and his – a full twelve inches, they had discovered on her last birthday. "All right. Hide!" she urged him, thinking that his tall form was too visible in the reflections cast by moon and snow. "I'll be out in a moment."

"Hurry..." he answered before sliding out of sight behind a winter-naked tree.

She turned, not bothering to light her candle, and ripped off her robe. Underneath, rather than the demure nightrail she often wore to bed, she had on a round gown of brown lawn with ivory lace cuffs and collar. Perhaps not the best dress to jump out of windows in, but it was far better than silk or satin or any of the other dresses she would rather wear when in company with her beloved.

Frowning, she slid a pile of whitework into her lace cap and propped it on her pillow. Her robe followed, filled out by a long cape. Tugging her coverlet over everything, she decided it would have to do. Retrieving the money she had been sequestering into various reticules for the past year, her ladyship ventured to think that she would do well enough for post horses and inns and so forth.

She would be marrying her dearest friend, finally. He was the son of her father's steward, but Edward Masen had been the sole desire of her heart since she was still in short gowns. Unable to wed any man of her own choosing until her twenty-first year, Isabella had had to bide her time, pretending to entertain suitors for three full seasons while she and her Edward waited.

Now, two changes of clothing stowed away in a small trunk she could lift on her own, Lady Isabella, youngest daughter of The Earl of Stafford, bid a silent and solitary goodbye to the life she knew. With a slight pang – but a greater longing to leave – she returned to the window and leaned out. "Edward?"

"I'm here!" He emerged from the shadows, his sharp jaw casting its own shadown on his coat. "Ready?"

"Catch!"

He leapt lightly to where her trunk landed in the powdered London snow. A smile flashed up to her and she sighed at the sight of it. Appearing to brace himself, he held his arms out. "All right, my lady. Come."

She saw their life together in the instant before she leapt. His childish face encouraging her to leap from a branch of a tree, his hair pulled back in a queue on his neck. His dashing, twelve-year-old grin as he begged her to climb from her chamber window and come play on a summer's evening on the Staffordshire estate. The fire in his eyes only three years ago, when he had been twenty-two had had finished his studies. "Come, marry me, Isabella," he had whispered, his arms around her.

Making a slight beckoning motion with his fingers, he said it one last time. "Come, my Bella. I'll always catch you."

Pulse racing, tears of expectation in her eyes, she took a sharp, cold breath and leapt into the night.

"Edward!"

"My Bella," he rasped, pulling her tight against his body for a moment. "Happy Birthday."


	6. The Meeting

**A/N: **Sometimes, I just need to emote. So I asked my** Edge Girls** for a prompt to which I could write something of a certain emotional tenor. The idea below came from my friend **valelf**. I'd say to blame her, but really you can't. _**It's all on me.**_

_**Pairings: All canon. This is a BD AU moment. Things go very, very wrong when Aro wants to meet Renesmee.**_

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><p><strong>The Meeting<strong>

Edward watched Bella embrace their daughter before offering Jacob as hearty a hug as one could offer an enormous, furry creature. "If I say to go," Bella whispered near Jacob's twitching ear, "run with her. I trust you, Jake. Then, when you can, look in her backpack."

"Renesmee," Edward murmured, coming to stand as close to his daughter as he could, though she was mounted on the werewolf. "You know to do exactly as Jake says, right?"

She nodded, stretching her slender hand to touch his face. He saw images of Jake running, of her point of view as the forest flew by. _I'm afraid, Daddy. I don't want to go. _

"I know, sweetheart. I know, but you will. And then, when we can, we'll come find you."

Girl and wolf nodded in their own ways. Edward could have sworn that tears welled in the wolf's huge, still-so-human eyes. "Take care of her," he said, feeling every day of his century-plus of life.

Silence descended almost tangibly as Bella kissed Renesmee's knee and caressed Jacob's muzzle. Then, Edward and Bella joined the front line. "Bella...I love you."

He heard her take in a sharp breath before flashing before him to halt his forward progress. "I love you, Edward. So much." Tugging his head down, she seemed to be about to kiss him and Edward ached inside, his chest feeling as if it were cracking right there in the light January snow.

But. All at once, before he could ask her what she was doing since her lips had not touched his, a wash of images and words and senses swirled over and through his consciousness. His own face, smiling in unimagined delight, the image of him with Renesmee, of all the family, jumping over the river, of their first night in their cottage...

"Bella!" he gasped, overwhelmed. Those were her _thoughts_, memories of their life together.

_Edward, I love you so much. Please, be strong for me. Love our daughter, if I cannot. Please..._ Ideas of fiery, hideous destruction made him almost collapse in horror before her.

"No!" he protested, actually breaking contact with Bella and stepping back, eyes closed, shaking his head as if to un-see what he had seen. "No, no. I can't go on without you."

Bella groaned and made an audible grunting sound. _You must!_

Then, a flood of new thoughts invaded Edward's mind.

_Immortal child. There she is. Unnatural. Her parents... Carlisle, how could you? We could send the others to flank... Children of the Moon! Jane could take them, and then..._

Jerked out of his wife's mind by the sheer power of all the other thoughts, Edward swallowed back venom and stood ahead of Bella – who promptly moved to stand in front of him.

Ranks of black. Black upon black with the palest of white faces seeming to float above the darkest tide. Row upon row of silent terror approached them, spear points an archaic hint of their purpose in coming.

Carlisle thought, _I'll go out to meet him. Seek to ascertain his intent. Try to make him see... He will surely take my hand and know that Nessie is no immortal child but a miracle of creation. _

Aro's thoughts were filled with purpose-drawn images of feeding. Edward tried to persevere – to remain in his mind so that he could find Aro's strategy. No luck. Aro was far too good at categorizing his mind.

"Carlisle, old friend."

"Aro. I am so surprised to see your wife and mate. Sulpicia, greetings." The tall woman of sylphlike beauty remained silent.

Next to Edward, Bella was panting, as if she couldn't breathe. As if she had to, but was fighting against some great force. He sought to comfort his wife but she was taut and unreachable by anything save his fingers on her hand.

"Carlisle, a most alarming report has reached my ears. Irina, dearest," Aro beckoned, with a nearly careless gesture. "Tell us again what you saw."

"An immortal child!"

"No!" the Witnesses shouted with one voice.

"Renesmee, Jake," Bella began, her voice rising with each syllable."

"Cease!"

Aro – who rarely moved as fast as he was capable of doing – was standing before Bella in an instant, his hands carefully not touching her bare skin in any way as he grabbed her shoulders. "No, my dear," he went on, seemingly uncaring of the shocked reaction from the Guard, not to mention his own shield, Renata. There was a surge of movement but the leader of the Volturi stopped it all with a word. "Halt. You see, I want to see your, your _creation_, Edward. Bella."

"She's our _daughter_," Bella hissed. "I bore her in my _body_."

"Well, let me shake hands with her," Aro said, his tone implacable. "Edward?"

With Aro's hands on his beloved Bella, Edward could do no other than move to take Renesmee into his arms. "You just need to say hello, Renesmee. Be polite."

"How charming," Aro purred, moving to have one hand on Bella's throat under her lustrous hair. Edward could do nothing without condemning her to instant decapitation, if not death. "Little Renesmee, how do you do?"

"I am quite well," Renesmee said, her voice clear and high. "How are you?"

"So delighted, to be sure!" Aro's smile was too broad for his face, making him appear as a dead and rotting shark with red eyes. He took Renesmee's hand. "Oh, dear child. How clear your mind is..."

Edward saw – saw each memory Aro stole from his daughter – and allowed himself to relax with relief. Aro saw that his daughter was a blend of human and vampire, not an immortal child. Her development was clear in her mind. Her gift ever-present. With a soft sigh, Edward smiled.

In that instant of slightly relaxed vigilance, Aro swept Renesmee from him and moved at unheard of speed across the snow. One of the Guard, fearing an attack, leveled an archaic spear that he had likely brought for intimidation purposes. Renesmee's skin was tough, but no match for a weapon of that strength.

Her shriek pierced the still, frigid air. Edward sought his daughter's mind, finding only the shock of the pain before blackness, and then – she was gone.

Shouts, curses in a dozen languages, cries, roars, and the buzz-saw growling of no fewer than fourteen shapeshifters filled the silence with the sounds of combat.

_I only meant to bring her back with me! _Aro's mind called to Edward. _I swear it! Edward! I am dreadfully sorry!_

That mattered less than nothing to Edward as he held a blank-eyed Bella in his arms.

Twenty minutes later, Jasper stumbled – stumbled! – onto the field, a similarly blank-eyed Alice in his arms. Purple smoke hovered obscenely over mangled, furry corpses. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Before them was the sight of Edward, kneeling on the ground with Bella in his arms. Behind the pair of grieving vampires was Aro di Volturi, holding the cold, limp form of the little girl he had met less than half an hour before.

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><p><strong>Endnote<strong>: I asked my elder son if I was mean, after telling him about this drabble. He said, "No, you're just sadistic." Then he paused and added, "Not that there's anything **wrong** with that."


	7. Mike's Seventeenth Birthday

**Mike's Seventeenth Birthday**

A Leap-Day Birthday Drabble for **Melolabel** (Yes, she asked for it. Really!)

_Twilight Canon Missing Moment_

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><p>"Happy Birthday, Mike!" Jessica called, her voice bubbly and excited. She was bundled up against the cold morning – colder by far than usual for the first of March in Forks.<p>

Mike climbed out of his Suburban, rolling his eyes at Jess. She was cute, but she wasn't Bella Swan. Still, she was right there and that sweater... Man. "Hey, Jess. It's not really my birthday, you know."

She smiled and, visibly gathering some internal momentum, put her gloved hands on his shoulders, rolled up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Not my fault you were born in a leap year. Your party last year was awesome."

He acknowledged that with a nod and smile as he closed the door. Overhead, the clouds were heavy and gray. "It was. At least this year, it's not raining."

"It might even snow!" Her eyes danced in anticipation. "Wouldn't that be a great birthday present?"

Hefting his backpack more comfortably on his shoulder, Mike agreed that it would be. He listened, waiting for the rumble of Bella Swan's truck. He wanted to see if she'd ask him to the Ladies' Choice Spring Dance. He figured he'd play the birthday card and get her to ask him to the dance as kind of a present.

Jessica had other plans. Tugging on his arm, she pressed herself not-so-subtly against him and he was immediately reminded of how great she looked in that sweater. "You know," he remarked as they headed across the parking lot toward the main doors, "that's my favorite color."

"Red?" she asked, meeting his eyes as they stepped in sync. She really was a pretty girl. "Mine, too."

"Hey, dude. Happy Not Really a Birthday!" Tyler called as they reached the warm interior of teh building.

It was a good day. Bella even wished him a happy birthday and he got to tell her that it wasn't really his birthday exactly, but that he'd turned "four" the year before. Her smile stayed in his mind all the way through lunch.

"It's snowing!" Jessica announced, her voice echoing off the ceiling of the gymnasium in sixth period. It was maybe the only thing that could have distracted Mike from watching Bella try to walk across the floor without tripping. He'd love to be the one to catch her...

But snow was pretty good, too. The whole class stormed the gym doors to get outside, even though they weren't dressed for the weather. But Clapp blew his whistle.

"Get your butts back inside!" he roared. "I am not going to tell you again."

"But Coach!"

Clapp eyed them all and pointed back to the bleachers. "Sit. Down."

"It better still be snowing when we get out of here," Mike muttered to Bella as they stood in a line a few minutes later for some "disciplinary calisthenics."

He was encouraged when she offered him a lopsided smile. "Promise me something?"

"What?" he asked, eager to please. If he could do something for her, maybe she'd do something for him – like ask him to that dance! He hadn't been able to talk to her about it in front of everyone at lunch.

"If it snows? Don't throw any at me, okay? I'm really not into the cold and wet stuff, you know?"

He laughed and found the guts to touch her hair, just for a second. It was so soft. "All right. But it's my birthday, you know, so really you –"

"Newton! Drop and give me fifteen. Swan! Drop and – oh, never mind."

Chagrined to have been caught, Mike got a glimpse of Bella's blush and hoped she stay next to him. He could totally do fifteen push-ups. She'd see how strong he was, and...

"Sorry, Mike!" she whispered, moving away, to join Jessica on the benches. At least Jessica appreciated a guy who could do fast push-ups.

Finally, the day was over and they were all heading out to the parking lot. Mike caught a glimpse of Edward Cullen – the dude was trying to make it look like he wasn't staring at Bella, but he totally was. Mike didn't know why Cullen was being such a jerk, but he hoped to hell Cullen and the rest of his family stayed away from Bella. So far, so good.

"Oh, Mike. Dude. What happened to your car, man?" Tyler shouted, sounding happy.

"What? What happened to it?" Mike called, his mind immediately possessed by the thought that anything could have happened to his car on his birthday. That would totally suck. White. Blobs of white splattered all over his car. He ignored the fact that he had been hit with six blobs of the same white stuff since he had left the gym.

"Oh, crap," he groused, stalking through the parked cars. "Looks like a flock of birds took a dump on my car."

Tyler cackled like a hyena. "Snow, dude! It's snowing on your birthday!"

Mike immediately sought out Bella. "Lucky you, Arizona! Not enough snow to throw, today."

When she smiled at him, her eyes lit up. "Funny, California Boy. Hey, happy birthday."

"Thanks!"

Careful not to disturb the snow, Mike climbed into his car and headed carefully home. Tomorrow. He'd ask her tomorrow if she'd go to the dance with him.

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><p>Per the Twilight Lexicon (twilightlexicon dot com) Michael Newton was born in 1988 - a leap year. He asks Bella Swan to ask him to the dance on March 2nd - the day after what I have decided is his 17th not-quite-birthday in 2005.<p> 


	8. Alice and Edward and the Awkward Moment

**Alice, Edward and the Awkward Moment**

Because **Edward Cullen **made me do it.

No, he didn't. But he was in **A Different Forest** having an open Q&A and the topic of eyebrows came up and...

Anyway. Blame him.

My thanks to **wtvoc** for volunteering to beta an actual _Twilight_ fic. If there are still ! ! moments, they're all my fault. Except the original idea.

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><p>I totally got it. I really did. Ever since I joined the family in 1950, I had seen girls throw themselves at Edward. He is my favorite brother but the fact is:<p>

He's not my _brother_, you know?

Thankfully, over the years when the rare occasions of hormonal influence hit, my wonderful mate has stepped in to drain the "not my brother" emotions and all is thereafter well. In a family like this one, we have to keep everyone as smooth and inter-relational as possible.

But one day...

It was September 5, 1990. Bushy eyebrows were out and had been since the Brawny paper towel guy quit wearing plaid shirts.

_Edward,_ I thought at him, imagining me trying to thin out his eyebrows. _Really, it looks like you have caterpillars on your face._

In my head, I saw him decide to say, _No, Alice. We are not hot waxing my facial hair. Next thing you know you'll want to get rid of my chest hair and you know that's not an option._

_Well, now. I like chest hair. Oh, Jasper's is nice. Not too thick, but enough for my –_

"Enough!"

I half expected to feel the soothing emotive gift of my mate, but I remembered that he and Carlisle were out hunting. Bonding time. _Fine. So please? The tweezing thing didn't work when I tried in 1979, but the waxing methods have really come a long way._

He closed his eyes. "You're not letting this go, are you?"

"Nope."

He heaved out a huge breath, but no one was around to hear it but me and I didn't pay any attention to his melodrama. "Fine. But when it doesn't work, you have to swear not to even think it again, until... until..."

_When? _

Springing to his feet, he held up his hands, deciding to say, _Until I find a mate, okay?_

Giggling, I joined him and tugged him along to my vanity. _I totally knew you were going to go for it this time, brother dear. Sit down, right here._

He rolled his eyes and made this big production out of settling on the cushioned vanity bench. It was done in teal wrought iron and looked wonderful against the pale cream tile and cabinetry.

I turned on the cup-warmer to heat the wax and laid out the linen strips. In my mind, I visualized doing this to him, with the hot wax on the wooden tongue depressor from Carlisle's office, and then pressing the linen to the wax and ripping it off.

"It's not going to work," Edward informed me in a flat, bored tone.

A vision sprung before my inner eye at that moment, and I froze, the sugary wax cooling on the wooden tongue-depressor-cum-applicator in my hand.

The treatment failed and I, with a disappointed expression on my face, started wiping Edward's face with a hot warm cloth.

And then it all played out.

"Okay, that feels nice," he admitted.

I smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head – a usual gesture of affection between us as notional siblings.

His eyes opened, meeting mine in the mirror. I felt the sudden increase in tension. He spoke via silent decision, as was far more usual than anyone knew. _We're not _really_ siblings._

_I know. _

Visibly trying to tone it down – he was often stuck in a state of sexual frustration and we all knew that – Edward inhaled quickly. "So get that stuff off of my face!"

Now, I had a choice. In my head, a slew of outcomes appeared before me. If Jasper had been home, instead of hunting, what came next would not have happened.

I decided to be _playful_.

And Edward _saw_ me deciding that and rose just a half-second too late to evade the wet cloth in his face. "Hey!" he protested before laughing and leaping after me.

I jumped to the top of the vanity and then over to the floor in front of the bathtub. Our shouts and laughter echoed off the tile floor and full mirrors. I did my best not to think of where I'd go next so he couldn't trip me up, but I slipped once and he was there, knocking me to the floor (but catching my head because Edward really is a dear) and trapping me with the cage of his limbs and torso.

"No more trying to fix my eyebrows," he growled, his gaze darkening as I squirmed beneath him.

I hated it when hormones forgot we were supposed to be siblings. But at the same time, uncomfortable as it was, I admitted privately to myself that there was something alluring about the forbidden. And Edward Anthony Masen Cullen was a very attractive brand of _forbidden_.

As if he were a human doused with cold water, Edward winced internally and bounded to his feet, extending his hand courteously to me. He then wiped the rest of the wax from his eyebrows, tossed me the wet washcloth, and left the room.

"Well, that was awkward," I said to the mirror.

My reflection only smiled.


	9. The Little Things

**A/N: Just another one of those "it was there and had to come out" drabbles.**

**New Moon AU**

**Pairing: Sam/Bella**

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><p>It's the little things.<p>

When one is in the whispering desert, a bright sound – however slight – captures the attention. When one is in darkness, the smallest match-flame flares noticeably. When one lives in the still, cool solitude of a lonely heart, any kindred feeling brings warmth.

He didn't expect to find the light, the welcome sound, the warmth – not here. Not with her.

Broken, weary, she still stood up to them – stood up to them all. And in her determination, he heard that resonant frequency as a bright sound, a light, a warmth that soothed and intrigued him.

It was the little things.

The warmth of her caring. "I've been so worried," she said.

The soul-dragging of her voice, desperate but strong. "Please, just talk to me."

The flare of fire in her eyes. "What did you do?" she demanded, glaring at him in a moment that changed everything.

But that warmth, the sound of her voice, the fire – they weren't for him. He gathered his will, wrapped it around his heart like plate armor, and jerked his head toward the tree line. The others growled quietly but heeded his directive. All save for _him_, the one whom she had come to see.

And though it hurt and puzzled him, he knew that he would let her do as she felt was best as long as she was safe.

But Jacob would have to be told that Bella Swan was the _Alpha's_ Imprint. "You can tell her," the actual Alpha told the genetic Alpha. "Answer her questions. Just remember who imprinted on her."

Swearing under his breath, Jake crunched a path to Bella's red truck. From the trees, Sam heard, "Fine. We'll talk. Let's get you out of the rain, huh?"

It was the little things.

Little pale hands bunched in fists. Small feet in soggy Converse sneakers. And a quick look over her shoulder.

He met that look with his own and was somehow comforted enough to go.


	10. Peter and the Newborn Widow

A/N: Happy Birthday, **letsjustdance**! She's got a birthday this weekend and asked for a Peter/Bella drabble. This is what fell out of my head.

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><p><strong>Peter and the Newborn Widow<strong>

The strange sound caught his notice, about a quarter of a mile to the east. Sounded like a cross between a dying antlered thing – an elk, maybe – and a hoarse, gutteral sob from a human.

Curiosity alone kept the nomad walking anymore, so he followed that persistent, questioning part of his multitasking brain to where the sound was. He jogged, moving through the thin trees with a smooth, liquid pace, every sense alert. He had been ambushed before –

Crack! The sound of broken timber echoed in his ears and he froze, hand on the slender trunk of the nearest deciduous variety of tree. Silence fell heavily where there had been unwonted sound, so Peter proceeded with caution to where the bodies of two elk were littering a small clearing.

Crack! Splintering wood flew like some kind of op-art fountain as a hefty branch arrowed through the wintry air. It had been too dry for much snow, but some had dusted the ground between the trees. It crunched lightly under his feet as he approached the clearing on what he knew to be a stealthy reconnaissance.

The gasping, wretched sobs quieted to a low keening. He smelled two dead beasts and one female vampire, though he hadn't seen her, yet. He knew the sound she made, though. It called to him – called to a part of himself that would never, ever be forgotten. It was the sound of a heart broken. Shattered. Splintered.

"Poor kid," he whispered, knowing full well the slight sound would reach any vampiric ears.

With a ragged intake of breath, the weeping female leaped, growling, into the air. "Get. Away," she ground out. Rich sable hair was matted around her head, woven through with dead grasses from somewhere far away. Her clothing – some improbably formal dress – was torn and jagged, as if she had run through rocks and knives in an effort to escape whatever agony still shone in her eyes.

Her eyes... Were orange. Not red as his were after a feeding, nor were they yellow, as Jasper's had been in late decades. Orange.

He crouched down, low to the ground, and moved only a few steps closer until only fifteen feet separated them. "I'm Peter. Peter Whitlock."

She turned to run away but stopped before she could do more than lift one bare foot off the cold ground. "Whitlock..." she whispered.

In spite of his inner concern over her – a concern bred from fellow-feeling without even knowing her name – he had to smile a little. "Whitlock. Sound familiar?" Inhaling deeply, he sifted through her fragrances. No, no hint of Jasper's arid scent. Peter carried some of it himself, as part of the sire would always be in the created vampire. The scent of elk blood came to him from her as she turned, disturbing the air around her. "You – you must be very thirsty?"

"No," she said, clearly working to catch his scent. "Whitlock? Jasper...? Did you know him?"

Feeling as if another part of his existence was about to be ripped from him, Peter nodded slowly and stood to his full height. "He's my brother. My sire. Was my best friend. You _know_ him?" Inside, though, it was as if a modern movie was on fast-forward or something. All of the memories shared with the most powerful empath known to their species, the gory battles, rivers of blood, burning of newborn vampires...

Her face contorted in renewed sorrow. "He was taken. Volturi. Took him and Alice. I tried to save them – I did, but..." Pain burst forth from her in a torrent, and he knew her agony as if it were his.

Slowly, hands outstretched, he approached her. "You were with the coven of Carlisle Cullen? Is that where you met him?" The pieces knit together in his mind. Drinking from animals, knowing Jasper and Alice, eyes transitioning from red to gold – she might be a newborn. At her nod, he stepped still closer, until he could touch one fisted hand before she pulled out her own hair.

She silenced herself. "You knew them, too?"

_Knew_. Dammit, so the black bats had likely wiped out the rest of the coven. "Yes. I was actually in their territory almost two years ago, to see Jasper."

Her eyes widened and he could not keep track of the flurry of emotions she communicated with them. "Did you see him? Did you see Edward...?" She gripped his hand with all the strength of a newborn, but without the ferocity he half-expected.

The rest of the pieces came together for him and he blew out a breath. "You're Edward's mate," he stated. "You were human... He changed you?" A wise move on Edward's part – but maybe it was made too late.

"Yessss!" She began to wail just as the sun reached through the winter cloud cover, touching her skin and his so that they shone in the beams of weakened light.

At length, she calmed herself and said she was Isabella Cullen . She had been changed shortly after her wedding, only to find the Volturi were looking for an excuse to destroy the Olympic Coven. Peter found himself comforting her with an arm around her shoulders as the afternoon sank lethargically into evening. He told her about his mate, Charlotte, and how he had failed to protect her from a band of marauding vampires from the South. Bella wrapped an arm around him, too.

Dawn was coming with a lavender haze when Peter realized they hadn't spoken in over an hour. They had talked all night, sharing stories of their lost mates, stories of Jasper and Alice. He found that Isabella was only a few months old. He told her he had been changed in 1922.

But now, all of what they could say had been said. Peter was reluctant to leave the lone female newborn, however. He called it a sense of duty, not compassion, when he squeezed her shoulders with his arm and said, "Isabella. How about you come with me, for a spell? Two's safer than one. We can keep watch for the Southern Armies and any inquisitive members of the Volturi."

Her eyebrows crunched together but she nodded. "All right. It's – it's lonely, sometimes..."

"I know," he murmured, moving to rise to his feet. "Come on. We can find you something else to wear, maybe."

She looked him in the eye. "I can't hunt with you."

"I won't hunt with you, either," he said, suppressing a scowl of distaste. "But we'll figure it out."

Slowly, she stood and brushed herself off, grimacing over the feel of her hair. "I'm a mess."

He acknowledged that with a small smile. "That you are."

"Which way do we go?" she wondered, her hands spread out from her sides as she turned slowly around. A melancholy sound of mourning issued from her throat and it made him ache, inside.

"Does it matter?"

Slowly, at a human's gentle walking pace, the two widowed vampires slid back among the trees and headed east. It would be long years before they ventured west again.

* * *

><p><em>EN: I know...I know... But you know what? These two? I'm kind of liking them. Be afraid. ;-)_


	11. Brothers

**Brothers**

**A birthday drabble for my dear friend Bells. Just Bells, who has a birthday this weekend! Hope it's a BEAUTIFUL DAY, sweetie!**

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><p>"Happy Birthday, Emmett!" my new ma said.<p>

Kind of hurt my heart, not gonna lie. It had only been two years since I'd seen my ma, and I had been spending considerable time wondering how they were doin', lately. We had celebrated my birthday back in the woods beyond Gatlinburg, me and my brothers, and then I went hunting and –

And then my Rosalie found me. I was still getting used to her. To _us_. To being _married_. That my angel loved a man like me... Appalachian, rough, with an accent I just couldn't shake yet, she loved me and I knew that she wanted me to be happy.

I was, mostly.

"Family hunt," the good doctor said, going barefoot and rolling up his trousers at the ankle. "We can't provide a birthday cake, Emmett, but I daresay we might find a bear."

That sparked a fire in my head. "I owe the whole bunch of 'em," I growled. Something churned under my skin, thinking about the bear that damned near did me in. Quickly bending over, I still had to be careful in how I unlaced my shoes. Doc Carlisle – harder to think of him as "Pa" than it was to think of his wife as "Ma" – said that I was stronger than almost any other vampire he'd ever met. Almost. I had to be extra careful not to tear stuff up, in this shiny white body of mine.

Edward smirked and I shrugged. The boy who was older than I was knew what was in my head and that wasn't always a bad thing. He was my brother and it was good to have a brother. I missed mine.

Rosalie wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

I did a swift, _Superman_ move and pulled her into my arms. "Love you, Rosalie."

Sometimes, I wished _she_ was the mind-reader. There were things I wished I could say to her but I didn't have the right words. But if she could just get into my head like Edward...

My brother laughed. "No, I don't believe you would like that. Not really."

I rolled my eyes. "It's my birthday, let me have my wish!" I said, laughing at him.

Edward closed his mouth and looked up into the starlit sky. "You get _one_," he promised quietly.

I didn't think about it for a little while, though, because Carlisle said it was time to "begin the celebration." We left our small house and ran into the woods.

I wasn't as fast as Edward, but I was stronger – even though my "newborn" strength was gone, I was still the strongest, and I decided to tease my brother by catching up to him before he got too far ahead of us, and tossing him into the air.

"I let you do that!" he called. I could hear him laughing. Sometimes, I thought he was glad to have a brother, too. "But don't do it again or you won't get your birthday present!"

I took a whiff of the air and smelled it. "Bear!"

Esme, all but flying to my right as she moved through the darkness, grinned brightly. "It's yours, Emmett. Go get it!"

So I did! I smelled it. Fur and blood. Richness. Strength. Edward was right there with me, though, his grin lighting up the darkness. "Race you!"

I laughed and the sound boomed everywhere. Scared some night-birds, but I couldn't drink from them, anyway. Ahead, the sound of the bear, crashing on its own, called to us.

It was like hunting with my brothers and I loved it.

Until.

We reached the great brown creature and Edward came to a halt, grabbing a tree trunk with ridiculous ease while I plowed into the beast. And suddenly, I felt as if I'd been gripped by a big hand, I couldn't drag air into my body. I kept seeing my brothers. Hunting with my brothers. Shotguns and rifles and stalking game through the woods and –

And it hurt. Deep in my chest. I stopped, hands at my sides, staring at the bear.

"Emm?" Edward called softly. He didn't move; the bear was mine and part of me held that in my mind. "You all right?"

"I miss 'em, Ed."

"Get your bear, _big_ brother," he told me. "Then you can tell me about them." _Again_, he didn't say, but I understood him, anyway. They'd all heard about my family.

I missed my first family. Worried about them.

The roar of the bear – probably was all confused – shook me from my thoughts and I lunged at him. I thought of my brothers and how we used to hunt and I wondered – even as I fought off this bear's swinging paws, claws, and jaws – how they were managing, without me.

"All right, already! Enough!" Edward snorted and approached me after the bear's mighty heart had stopped beating. "What do you really wish for, Emm?"

The family slid near us; their bare feet nearly noiseless on the twig-covered ground. Rosalie's familiar touch soothed me and I inhaled again, deeply, smelling each member of my new family while my heart hurt for my old one. "What I'd really wish?"

_Oh, I can't say it out loud. It'll never happen_, I thought at Edward.

He actually chuckled and nodded, indicating I should go on like that, in my head.

_What I really wish I could do would be to give them some hard money, you know? So I know Ma and my brothers and little Emmy are all right. So that they don't freeze. They're growin' up and they'll need new things and without me there, they might do without._

Entirely serious, Edward held out his hand to me. "Done. We'll make it happen."

The rest of the family looked expectant, their eyes shifting from Edward to me, but we shared a smile and didn't say anything. "Can't tell you," I told them, a smile in my eyes, I knew. "It's a secret birthday wish."

Rosalie slapped my shoulder. "Emmett!"

"What! I want it to come true!" I told her, pretending her smack had stung me – because she wanted to know she had made an impact so I always pretended she had.

She kissed my shoulder, telling me without words that I was forgiven, and Esme and Carlisle smiled at us like proud parents. I guess they were.

The next week, Edward went out for a bit, all mysterious. When he returned, he had a satchel under one arm. "C'mon."

Taking direction from me, we drove out to where my family still lived, in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. "Here," Edward said, pushing the satchel into my hands.

I could smell leather, but not anything else yet. Then, I opened it and gaped, there in the front seat of Edward's automobile. "Edward..."

"Go on. It's for your brothers. Happy Birthday, Emmett."

_Thanks_, I thought hard at him, feeling my forehead crunch with my effort to make sure he understood that there was no way ever I could ever repay him.

He smiled a little and waved it off. "It's what brothers do," he said simply.

I ran into the woods, knowing Edward would wait in the shady spot he had chosen off the road. His timing, naturally, was perfect and the night was not even moonbright when I left him to run to my old house. I heard the quiet sounds of my family settling in, my gut clenching. I couldn't let them see me. I wanted to, so much, but I couldn't.

So I tiptoed to the stoop and put the satchel on the wooden step before running faster than the fastest deer back to the tree line.

Stay or go? Stay or go?

Blowing out a breath, I whispered, "I love you," to the house and all who lived there. It was time for me to go. I couldn't bear to see my family again and not get to _see_ them. Besides, I had a new family now... A wife. A ma and even a pa.

And a new brother.


	12. Only Alice

A/N: Written for **TwiFicPics Meet Me in Cyberspace Challenge**, this drabble was inspired by **anniegirl27**'s banner (ht tp: / / twificpics. com / ? p =15185). The challenge is to get the drabble in at 1,000 words or less, and mine clocked in at 995. Whew!

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><p>We met, she and I, long years ago. And when I say "long years," I mean <em>decades<em>. Still, I appear to be in my early twenties–as does she, though her body was so tiny that I mistook her for a waif of a child.

A waif being stalked by a vampire.

I grimaced at the memory, but longing bolted through me anyway as I stared at my iPad to see the reality of her present. The petite figure dressed in clothing that was perfect for the location. She liked her accessories. Leather was her favorite material. Her hair was long and lustrous. I learned, later, that she had run from her family after having a vision of being held captive in some asylum. She had left her home in her nightgown and run into the vampire who had been trying to drain her when we met.

"It's Only Alice! Today, we're going to be discussing dressing to impress, no matter who you are and no matter whom you are trying to knock out of the park!"

A trademark of her webcasts was that Alice loved to work with real people out in the real world. It was as if she knew who would benefit most by her clothing magic. She met them in parks, in shopping malls, but always away from the sun.

I knew why, and it made me wince, inside.

. . .

I had been thirsty – so thirsty. But seeing such a young girl become the victim of another of my kind struck me beyond thirst, beyond any part of myself. I tore her bodily away from the blond vampire, caring only to get her out of his hands before I dismembered him. I am faster than any of my kind I have ever seen and I quickly incapacitated, then destroyed him.

It wasn't until he was burning, purple smoke pluming into the twilight, that I realized I would need to help the girl. Guilt assailed me, almost pushing me to the ground when I reached her. In my drive to free her from the other's hurtful clutches, I had broken her!

Blood spilled, crimson in the night. She looked vacantly up at me, her face thin and pale under the moon.

"You…" she said on a tender breath. It was as if she knew me. "Save me…"

I don't know how I dared.

. . .

She was like a drug – not _addictive_; I had done without her for so long it was pathetic – but she called to me. Her voice. Her charm. She pulled at me, every time I heard her. Every time I thought of her. Day after day, through the long years that had – mostly – separated us.

I tried to avoid her. To get over her. To let her live as fully as she could without the burden of my presence. She hadn't been lonely. Carlisle had taken her in, without the crushing guilt that pressed on me.

"Your sister's been having visions," Carlisle would call to say.

"She's not my _sister_," I growled. Each time. How could she be? A man did not feel this way about his sister. "I'm her _sire_, not her brother."

I had stolen her life. Caused her agonies that lasted for days. I had done such a thing to a defenseless girl. I had run.

I was still running.

. . .

"It's Only Alice! Today, we're going to pay a surprise visit on someone near and dear to my heart."

That voice… Her voice rang clear and beautiful. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her webcast. She was in a corridor that I would normally call nondescript.

Except that it was in _my_ building.

If I had had a functioning heart, it would have been pounding straight out of my chest.

Inhaling, I knew it was her.

. . .

The year was 1948. The city, Philadelphia.

I had been roaming, working odd night jobs in warehouses. Trying to have some stability in a life punctuated by relocations. Carlisle had Esme, now, and I knew that the two of them doted on the poor girl I'd made into a monster. It wasn't her fault.

But she hadn't been a "girl." She had been a _woman_. And I knew it the moment I had held in her my arms.

I knew she'd hate me, as I had briefly hated my sire for doing _this_ to me. "I can't see her look at me like I remember looking at you," I had told Carlisle. "I can't. I care too much…I can't."

But in Philadelphia, I hadn't been able to run. She met me on a street corner, one where the light had gone out, near a diner. "Alice…"

She didn't wait at all, moving to my side in next to no time. "Edward. _Please_."

The nebulous armor created by years of solitude fell from me as her tiny fingers twined with mine. I held her fast. "I've tried," I started to say.

"I know. Stop."

I did. God help me, I did. I tugged air into my lungs, lifted her against my body and devoured her with long-denied passion.

Sunlight glinted off her bare skin in the morning's light. I apologized.

"I can't believe you." Her pain was visible in the taut lines of her face. "Get out. Get. Out."

It had been a mistake. But even so, I couldn't stop watching her.

. . .

"Edward? I know you're in there."

I threw the iPad against the wall in shock. "Al – Alice?" Damn! I was on her webcast!

She giggled, and I knew it had to be for her crew and viewers. "Yes, indeed, sweetheart. It's time to meet the world."

I bowed to the inevitable, relief and long-avoided delight sending prickles under my stone skin. "You've kept me waiting," I teased as I opened the door.

There was no getting over Alice.


	13. Rose Wakes Up

**A/N: From the _Theory_ AU. Emmett changed Edward's sister, Rose. My readers wanted to see Rose rip Emmett's arms off. This one's for you.**

**Pairing: Emmett/Rose**

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><p><strong>Rose Wakes Up<strong>

"What the hell is this?" The sound of my own voice freaked me out and I winced. "And what the hell is up with my voice?" I was so damned _loud_.

Okay, I also sounded like the hottest chick ever behind a mic, but..._damn_.

"Rose..."

The huge man in front of me had a look about him that said _Take No Prisoners_ and yet, something in him called to me. I swore and crouched – I didn't know why. Seemed instinctive. "Wait. I know you."

He smiled a little and the tough, hard exterior faded. Dimples appeared and it all came back to me. "Damned dimples," I muttered.

His grin widened. "That's what you said when you kissed me the first time. Rose Cullen, I'm Emmett McCarty."

"Professor McCarty. My brother's teacher..." I went to his office, looking for my brother because I was worried he'd be getting laid by the TA – hell, yes, I knew who his teachers were. And then, there was Emmett McCarty, big as life and hot as hell.

With dimples.

"I kissed you," I said. It was almost a question, but not quite. I knew I would have kissed him. It was like my lips remembered. I touched them and saw my hand blur near my face. I froze. "What. Is. That?"

The dimpled professor caught my suspended hand and waited until I met his golden eyes. My skin sizzled, a sensation that went down to my bones and I felt a sudden flaring of heat in my body. This man just did that to me. He had before – and we'd had the kind of sex that broke beds – and then …

"What happened?" I asked, now genuinely concerned as I saw surprise and awe widen his eyes. "What is it?"

"We're – we're _mates_, Rose," he said, delight flaring in his features.

"What?"

"I made you like me."

"Like you?" I fought past the need I felt cascading through my body. _Screw that._ "What do you mean?" I struggled to get my hand back.

"Yeah. Like me. We're gonna live forever, you and me. Never gonna change," he said, looking as if that was the best thing ever.

I stared at him. Hard. At my hands, too. I dragged him to the window and saw a shaft of light bounce off the back of his hand in a _rainbow_, by all that's holy. Then it hit me. _I had dragged him_. I had _dragged_ him. Him. This huge man. _I_ had _dragged_ this _huge_ man.

A thrill buzzed through my limbs. Whatever he had done to me? I was _strong_.

And I was angry. Part of my head wanted to explode. Part of it remembered feeling that I'd been burning. Part of it remembered amazing sex and then a pain the likes of which I'd never felt – not even when my parents had been killed.

"You didn't even _ask_ me," I said, a growl vibrating. _That_ was cool, but I was still mad and getting more furious by the second. "You just did this to me?"

"But - we're mates," he started to say.

I didn't plan it, but I reached up to push against him, catching his shoulders in my hands. I jerked him so hard that I felt his flesh move. Shocked, I froze with my hands still on his body.

"Rosie...?"

"Do not call me Rosie!" I screamed, an uncontrollable anger making me clench my fingers into fists and –

I ripped his arms right off his body. It sounded like I'd trashed a car with my bare hands.

"Now," I said, studying his arms that I held in my hands. "Tell me what the hell you did to me. And what does this have to do with my little brother and your TA?"

I gave his arms back eventually.


	14. Little Brown Book

**Little Brown Book**

**Pairing: Seth and Hantaywee **

**from the Imprinting: The Mating Imperative AU**

**\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \**

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," her mother had called through the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, Mom." Hantaywee regarded herself with clear eyes. Mahogany hair – more red than her mom's – over light skin and big blue eyes. She looked just like Gramma Renée. A genetic throwback or something. She tended to be tall, like her dad, but she wished she had more of his coloring... When her mom came into her room, Hantaywee met dark brown eyes in the mirror. "I'm never going to fit in," she lamented.

"Sweetheart..." Bella Call bit her lip and then nodded at the bed. "You will. Your language studies have made you a lot of points with the elders, you know."

"But I look like a white girl. A new girl at school wondered what the _paleface_ was doing at the Rez school."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I was Embry Call's daughter. In perfect Quileute." Hantaywee could smile about it now, in her room with her mother. But then, it had stung. In a smug kind of way. "I didn't tell Seth, though. He didn't say anything, did he?" Shame and confusion colored her face.

"Not a word. I don't think he knows."

Blowing out a breath, Hantaywee nodded. "Good. It's almost instinct to want to tell him stuff..." She blushed again and stared at her clasped hands. "Mom? It that weird? He's so...old, but he's my best friend, you know?"

"Sweetie...I know. I actually needed to talk to you about him."

She picked up the discomfort in her mother's voice immediately and sprang to her feet. "There's nothing wrong with him. I know he's a _werewolf_," she stated, lowering her voice on the last word. "But he's always just been a great guy, you know? And I know Dad totally trusts him and –"

"Tay! It's not that." A rueful smile tugged at her mother's features and Hantaywee relaxed and took her mother's outstretched hand. "I trust him, too. Ever since the day I met him. I knew him a long time before you did, you know." Sliding her hand free, her mother tapped the bed. "Have a seat again, sweetie. You know Seth very well. He's a great guy. But...there's more."

"He's getting married?" Hantaywee joked, leaning back on her hands. "I would've known."

"It's about his being a werewolf, sweetie. And it's about you. And it's in this book."

Hantaywee sat up straight again, looking at the book her mother had dropped on her lap. "WG-101?"

"It was a book written by Sam's wife, Emily, a long time ago. It's about the wolves. I have a copy, too, but this one is from Cassi Black."

"The Chief's wife."

"Yes."

Hantaywee felt a tremor in her belly as she ran her forefinger over the worn leather cover with its burned-in letters. "Feels old," she said softly.

"Older than you, but not as old as the twins."

Hantaywee tugged at the sueded leather ties until they came undone. Still, she hesitated. "This is a secret," she stated, speaking from the understanding she had from learning tribal legends as well as having a werewolf as a best friend. "I can keep a secret."

"We know, sweetie. This is just one more set of secrets to keep. But you're ready. It's time." Bella rose from the bed, tucking a long strand of brown hair behind one ear. "You know some of this stuff already. Some of us didn't know any of it before we met our wolf."

"Like you and Dad?" Hantaywee slowly pulled the leather cover off the crinkled pages under it. "What is this?" Finally, she lifted her gaze to her mother's. "Why now?"

"It's time. If you want me to stay while you read it, I will. And I can answer any question you want, of course. Or Seth, if you'd rather. He can tell you anything."

"He always has," Hantaywee murmured studying her mother's face for clues as to why this was such a big deal and why it kind of scared her. "Is there something wrong with Seth, Mom?"

"No," her mom said with a small smile. "You know he's a very calm guy, right?"

"He's the best."

"Exactly. So read this and you can talk to any of us about it. Dad, me, Seth. Chief Jacob..."

Alarm flared in her mind and Hantaywee blinked. "Uh, Mom?"

"Just read it, sweetie. I'll be working on your birthday cake if you need me."

The door closed softly behind her mother and Hantaywee frowned at it for a moment. What was this book? Why was it such a big deal? Scooping a breath into herself, Hantaywee looked at the page under her fingers.

**_WG-101_**

**_Preface_**

**_A tall, handsome young man catches your eye and you've caught his..._**

The wolf stuff, she knew, but this – this was new. It was weird. It was something she had never, ever expected. Seth...?

_**His life is bound..**. _Hantaywee's eyes filled with tears. That sounded terrible.

**_He'll put your wishes and needs above everything_.**.. A sob caught in her chest.

**_...he doesn't have a choice in the matter_**. The cry was keening in the back of her throat.

**_...he wants to be the father of your children. You're his imprint and he loves you._**

The little brown book fell to the floor from her nerveless fingers and Hantaywee cried the biggest and ugliest cries of her life. "Seth! I'm so sorry! Seth!"

When her door banged open, she almost thought it would be him, but it wasn't. "Daddy!"

With a sigh and his heart in his liquid brown gaze, her dad picked her up from the floor and cradled her against his chest, as he had done countless times during her life. "Hush, Little Faithful," he whispered soothingly. The words quieted her as they always had. "Hush. There's nothing to cry about. Trust me."

"Stay with me?" she asked. No one else would understand this like her dad.


	15. Maria of the Pancake

**Maria of the Pancake**

**Combination of _Pre-Twilight_ and the _Open Up Next to You_ AU**

**With a nod to nosleep3**

* * *

><p>She was a tiny thing, the newcomer. Her skin was pale, but not in the same way theirs was, so they were intrigued, the trio.<p>

"Nomad running solo?" Laurent eyed the tiny Latina who approached them, confidence spilling from her smile. "Not my type," he murmured to the leader of their coven.

Victoria purred, rubbing her hand up and down the leader's bare chest. "Not his, either, right?"

James smiled slowly, pretending to evaluate the approaching vampire. "Oh, I don't know, Vic. I kind of like dark hair and petite bodies..." That Victoria was tall and lean and had hair like living flame mattered not at all. They were mates – but James had his fantasies.

And his memories...

Feeling defensive, Victoria stepped out in front. "That's far enough, Nomad. Who are you?" The males behind her stilled and Victoria could feel them preparing to defend themselves. "Are there more of you?" She inhaled deeply, obviously testing the air to see if she could smell hidden compatriots.

"_Yo soy María de la Sangre_," the newcomer announced, as if she were declaring herself to be one of the notorious Volturi.

"Maria of the blood?" Laurent spoke Spanish, having come from the South. He was also fluent in French and an old Cajun hybrid, but he rarely spoke in these other tongues. "Really?" His sense of humor was tweaked and he smiled. "Is that supposed to be intimidating, Nomad?"

She bristled, the newcomer did, and came five quick steps closer. "Do not underestimate me," she warned, tossing a long, black braid.

Victoria kept her senses open, just in case there were others out there. "You're alone. There are three of us. Don't provoke us." Then, she saw that Laurent was choking and smiling. "What is it?"

"Maria of the blood!" the black-haired member of their coven gasped, apparently overcome.

James soothed Victoria with a hand around her waist while eyeing Maria. "Of the blood?" he asked, making his voice sharp with humor. "Is that supposed to be intimidating to us?" He laughed out loud, a broad sound. "Might work for humans, lady, but it's kind of like Maria of the –" Snapping his fingers, he pretended to search for an appropriate word. "Hot dog?"

"Bread," Victoria offered, leaning into him.

"Steak!" Laurent said, still laughing. "And she stands there, so proud of that name!"

"Maria of the Steak! Maria of the Sandwich! Maria of the Pasta!"

"Enough! You are not worthy to be in my army!" the small Latina stated, tossing her head. Disappointment pursed her lips. Though she had searched, she had never been able to replace Jasper. She turned, walking with what dignity she could manage to wrap about herself.

"Maria of the Blood Pudding!"

"Maria of the Hamburger!"

"Maria of the Pancake!"

She never should have left the south.


	16. The Solution

**The Solution**

**From The Mating Imperative AU**

**Pairing: Seth/Hantaywee**

**A/N down below...**

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><p>Seth pushed Hantaywee on the swing, mind scrambling, heart pounding way too hard in his chest. His throat was dry as he tried to figure out – still, yet, <em>again<em> – how to tell her she should go. Should pursue her dreams. Should leave him to go to school.

Her scent reached him like lush ribbons, touching his heart as much as the rest of him. His body tensed in desire for her as he pressed her back with careful fingers to push her higher on the old tree swing. She was tense, too, and he could smell the changes in her chemistry.

"Tay," he said, his voice rough with his anxiety, "I – I've been thinking."

She froze on the swing before dragging her feet into the earth and stopping the motion entirely. "Is, is everything okay, Seth?" Hopping off, consternation in her eyes, she gripped the rope of the swing and faced me. "Did anyone, you know, _say anything_ after graduation?"

For a moment, he felt the tension melt from him and reached for his imprint, cupping her face in his palm. After graduation. That had been two weeks ago. Two weeks. He had imprinted on Hantaywee Call when she was five, but it wasn't until she was eighteen, on the night of her graduation, that their relationship shifted easily into the one all his pack brothers had shared with their imprints. Two weeks since he had kissed her for the first time. Two weeks since she had indicated total readiness to be his imprinted _mate_. Two weeks since they had been caught in a heavy make-out session behind the Cultural Center by one tribal elder, two parents and his boss, the principal of the high school.

Because that wasn't awkward at all.

"Nothing you didn't already hear, Tay," he assured her with a smile. _"Mr. Clearwater? How long has this been going on?"=_

"_Oh, just tonight, sir,"_ Hantaywee said immediately, imitating his voice with a startling accuracy. He blushed to hear her, but didn't know why. _"She's eighteen and I've already spoken to her parents."_

Still blushing, he pulled her to himself, there under their tree, next to the swing that had seen so many important moments in their life together. "I spoke to her parents when she was five," he whispered over her head.

"And I spoke to them when I was fifteen." They held one another for a few minutes as the silence grew heavier. "Seth..."

His heart thumped again. He felt hers do likewise, so he held her even more closely against his chest and breathed her in. Her scent soothed him, soothed his wolf, allowed him to say what he had to say.

"Tay, I think you should go to school."

Her body stiffened in my arms, but she didn't draw away. "You do, huh?" Weird, but he had half-expected to get a sense of reluctance from her, of worry. She was so smart, so strong, but he knew – _knew_ – that she wouldn't want to leave her home _or_ leave him. They had been close for so many years. None of that was in her tone. "I'm planning on it, Seth."

It hurt, and he was too much of an imprinted wolf not to admit it, to hear that she wasn't apparently feeling at all bad about leaving. "Well, good," he managed to say. "When, uh, when do you think you'll be going?" And how was he going to manage not to go insane? "You do realize I'll have to come with you, right?"

She leaned back, her fingers linking behind his neck, and smiled broadly. Warmth spread through his body to see the sheer pleasure she took in his company, and it wiped out all his prior melancholy. "Mr. Clearwater, welcome to the twenty-first century. You do realize I can complete most of my degree online, don't you?"

Shock jolted through him. He had been expecting a notification of his impending insanity or her discomfort, perhaps. Maybe even tears. His jaw dropped open. "Seriously?"

Her laugh slid into his soul and he believed in her totally. "Seriously. Like I'd leave you? Seth..." With a sudden jolt, her heart thundered and he felt the heat from her body increase with her blush.

He kissed her, then, with relief and joy and thanksgiving. "Hantaywee," he said on a breath, "I love you."

"I love you, too. It's not like I'm going to let you go crazy, you know? I might go crazy, too, being away from you. What was it you told me once? Every twenty-four hours?"

He laughed, she cuddled back into his chest and they swayed lightly from side to side as the summer's breeze blessed them with refreshing salt. He could see them, years from then, maybe, with their children swinging on this same swing at Grandpa Embry and Grandma Bella's house. He could see himself letting the wolf go and aging alongside his mate.

And whatever he couldn't figure out, he knew that Little Faithful would always find a solution.

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><p><strong>EN: **I know...I've been away! Check out my profile for a more detailed explanation but the short answer is:** I'm writing. A lot. **Also,** my firstborn just graduated high school **and that was quite the enervating week for all of us. :)

**Also...**some of my stories have been nominated for awards at the** Non-Canon Awards. :) Voting began early - June 9th! - **and we're off and running. Check my profile for more information!

**Lastly...I am still taking requests for drabbles! :) If you have something in the Twi-verse you'd like me to shake a stick at, drop me a line!**


	17. Have Mercy

**Have Mercy**

**a BD Missing Moment**

**for bkchica**

**Phone calls lifted entirely from _Breaking Dawn_.**

* * *

><p>Alice's sudden shriek shattered three vases in the living room and all of us stopped what we were doing, panic making our footsteps too hard on the stairs as we thundered to our Seer.<p>

Jasper was entirely occupied in caring for his mate and had nothing left to soothe the rest of us. His hands were cupping her face and neck, providing skin contact that he had told us all long ago aided in the transmission of his gift. "Hush, sugar. I'm right here. Now just breathe in and out and tell us what's wrong."

While Alice tried to do that, her tiny body stiff in Jasper's arms, Esme pressed her face to my spine. "Carlisle, it's got to be the children. Something happened. Something terrible happened."

Emmett paced between the kitchen and the front door, agitation evident as he hit his fist to his open palm. "Maybe it's not all bad. Maybe it's just, you know. Hell, she's his singer! What if he bit her? She wanted it; it wouldn't be the end of the world."

"He might have just drained her," Rosalie remarked casually, her indifference raking my nerves. She picked up a prop magazine on the coffee table. "I tried, but did she listen to me?"

"She disappeared," Alice whispered. "I wasn't peeking, but I have an awareness of them while they're away and —"

Fear gripped me with iron fingers. If the unthinkable happened and Edward _had_ killed Bella while they were so far from the family...he would never forgive himself and might immolate himself before anyone could intervene, as far away as we were. I couldn't move, couldn't think, really, and could only acknowledge Esme's firm, loving arms around me.

Alice had broken entirely free from her paralysis by then and was on her phone. "Bella? Bella are you okay?" She stepped to the fireplace. Bella's voice was soft enough that I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation clearly. "He is. What's the problem?...Is Edward all right?" With a confused expression, she called for me and I flashed to her side. "Why didn't he pick up the phone?...Bella, what's going on, I just saw —" Her eyes flew wide and I gestured for her to give me the phone.

"Bella. It's Carlisle. What's going on?"

There was a brief pause and my mind raced in ten different directions of disaster. "I— I'm a little worried about Edward. Can vampires go into shock?"

What? Lord in Heaven, what had happened? Bella sounded well enough, but... "Has he been harmed?"

"No, no. Just...taken by surprise."

What on Earth could have taken my son by such surprise that he appeared to have gone into shock? "I don't understand, Bella."

Nothing in all of my centuries of experience could have prepared me for her answer. "I think...well, I that I might be..." I heard her inhale deeply. "Pregnant."

Pregnant. Pregnant. Bella had been a virgin — this had been a topic of humorous teasing and speculation amongst the family — as had Edward. So only Edward could have...

But how? My mind scrambled to find a reason. Our bodies did not regenerate anything. That _included_ spermatozoa. So had Edward actually retained that which had been in his body as a human boy, so long ago? Had he truly...?

Bella said she might be pregnant. She was a self-aware young woman of this century and knew what she was talking about, but I hastened to assure myself as best I could.

"When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?" She told me. I nodded, calculating. "How do you feel?"

"Weird," she said, and I had to smile against my will. Of course she'd feel weird. She was pregnant... But it was still early days... My curiosity was interrupted. "This is going to sound crazy," she went on to say. "Look. I know it's way too early for any of this. Maybe I am crazy, but I'm having bizarre dreams and eating all the time and crying and throwing up and...and... I swear something _moved_ inside me just now."

I couldn't grasp it right away. All of those things made perfect sense for someone who had been pregnant for quite some time. Months, perhaps. Was it possible that Edward and Bella had made love before their wedding? Earlier in the summer? It would not have surprised me, but — But no, we would have heard the baby's heartbeat by the day they wed. We would have, for it to be causing such concerns to Bella now.

"Um, I think Edward wants to talk to you," Bella said, her voice distant and worried.

"Put him on," I said.

My son's whisper was strained and hoarse. "Is it possible?"

I told him my theory about his spermatozoa, that they might have survived if he had never masturbated to release during his existence as a vampire. He listened but said nothing and I understood that to mean that he had not done so and that he was still with Bella.

"I've never heard of a vampire impregnating a human before, however," I said in conclusion.

"And Bella?" he asked.

I understood what he didn't say. "She's been impregnated by sperm that went through the change to become a vampire but managed to remain viable," I said slowly. "I'm concerned as to what this means, given the sensations she reported to me and the short duration of her pregnancy." I inhaled and shut my eyes to lean against the mantle over the cold fireplace. "Son. I'm afraid this could all end very badly. Bella is human and I don't imagine that carrying a vampire within her body will leave her unscathed." That was the most sensitive way I could say it. For so long—too long—I had relied on Edward's ability to read my mind to assist my communication with him. Having only words, poor words at that, left me feeling mute, almost. "Bring her home, son. Bring my daughter home and we'll make sure she's safe."

"Yes. Yes I will," he replied, his voice flat. The connection was cut abruptly.

I turned slowly to face the family. They had frozen, exactly where I'd left them before. "Bella's pregnant," I stated before walking right through them, through the house and out to the back yard.

Pregnant. My son had sired a child. A child that could not possibly be anything other than a monster who would devour my fragile human daughter-in-law as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow. I had always sought to preserve the life of humans. Always. For centuries, I had denied my nature and kept to this course.

The course that would, within a matter of days, require me to take the life of an unknown, unborn...creature.

But what if...? What if the child within Bella was human, as was she? No, it was active, she had said. It could be gas, or nerves, but if Edward had gone into something like shock...? That was a confirmation, as far as I could take it.

A vampire child could not be allowed to live within a human mother. Bella's life was most important to all of us. I had to protect her.

"Carlisle...? Is it true?"

I took Esme into my arms and pressed my lips into her hair. "I believe it is, darling." Pulling away, I waited until her eyes met mine. "But if it's as active as she has told me? The baby could kill her. I must make preparations. Edward is bringing her home."

"Preparations...?"

I looked squarely at her. "Yes. Preparations. Surgical. I have to save her life, Esme."

Her face contorted in agony. "Oh, Carlisle, surely..."

To ease her mind, I tried to smile. "I will examine her first and ascertain her condition. But, if she stands to be hurt in any way..."

Nodding almost too quickly, my wife said, "Of course. Of course. Do...do what you must."

I had arrangements to make. But even while I made them, I briefly allowed my imagination to dictate my thoughts. _ A baby. A child. My son and his wife were going to have a baby... _

_That would make me a grandfather..._

"No!" I almost blasphemed, but dared not. Instead, I fell to my knees in my office. "God in Heaven, have mercy on me. On my son and his wife. Please, Almighty Lord, have mercy on us all."

I could not allow myself flights of fancy. I must not.

But still.

It might only be for a day or two, but I knew myself to be a grandfather. And privately, I celebrated.

And mourned.

* * *

><p><strong>EN:** I wonder if this is how it went down?

I wanted to thank ALL OF YOU for your support of my work. :) Though this drabble is entirely canonical, I thank you for voting for my non-canon work, too! I tied for first place as best Non-Canon author! (totally squee'd over these, let me tell you!) and Tender is the Night took second place as best fic. Young Man's Fancy took first for best Bella/Carlisle fic. :) **You guys are the BEST!** Thank you again!

_I am writing, writing, but I am also plotting. ;-) I'm still here. Keep a light on for me. _


	18. Cullens In Hollywood, Rosalie

**A/N: For Bells. Just Bells. who asked for VampCullens Do Hollywood. This will be a seven or eight part series. Or so. :)**

**Pairings: Canon.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part One: The Continuity PersonScript Supervisor - Rosalie**

"And...go." The director's voice was quiet on the warehouse-sized set. He needed no dramatic directives; everyone was in tune to him anyway. He pushed a hank of honey-blond hair behind one ear and pointed.

The stars of the movie drew their prop pistols and slunk around the corner of the façade. Script at the ready, Rose never ceased to marvel at how the actors could be aware of the camera while ignoring it entirely. This was the fourth time through for this scene, officially. There had been the wide shot followed by the close-ups of each actor as all of them did the same thing, over and over.

Monitoring the script, pencil out to make notes, Rose was relieved she hadn't decided to try acting. Not that she could have. The lighting would have been bad for her skin.

"Cut." The director's quiet word brought instant stillness to the set and Rosalie went to work, her vampiric memory taking it all in. _If it weren't for this stupid role I'm playing_, she groused silently, _I wouldn't have to take notes at all_. But she was playing a role, so she did take notes.

A lot of them.

"Wow, Mrs. McCarty," one of the PA's gushed, his spiky brown hair shining with product, "you have a great eye for detail!" His eyes wandered over _her_ details and Rose smiled at him. Full-blown mega-watt charm. The PA's eyes glazed over and he was about to make an idiot out of himself.

It would have been amusing, but Emmett heard, of course. He jogged over, dressed in a jumpsuit for a stunt that would be filmed later that day. "Hey, Rose! Lookin' good, babe!"

Rosalie smiled and leaned into her husband's embrace. "You, too, hon."

Emmett cocked a brow in the PA's direction. "Don't you have to be somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Thanks for reminding me. Gotta go!"

Emmett laughed softly and Rosalie relaxed all the way down to her toes. Gone was her discontent for that time, because she knew that by this man, she was appreciated utterly for who she was. "Thanks, hon."

"Love ya, babe."

"Five minutes!"

"Back to work," Rosalie said on a sigh. Corralling the stars, she adjusted hair, a shoelace, and the way a prop rested in a pocket. No way would IMDb ever find anything to llist under "Continuity" on any of her movies.

"Hmph."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is a series, so the next drabble will focus on another Cullen on the same set... Which one will be a mystery for now! Thanks for reading!**


	19. Cullens In Hollywood, Carlisle

**Cullens On Set**

**Part Two: Weapons Master - Carlisle**

**The continuing mini-series inspired by Bells. Just Bells.**

* * *

><p>"Come," Carlisle called decisively to the gathered stunt crew. "Let's get you familiar with these."<p>

"These" were handguns. As weapons master for this production, he was responsible for both the care of the weapons as well as training the actors and stuntmen to use them with absolute safety and precision. The rounds might not be live, but they would still hurt and all care had to be taken. Because this movie dealt with time travel, the guns on the four-foot-long plastic table were anything but homogenous.

Emmett, the Stunt Coordinator, made a face. "Where are the rifles, Dr. Cullen?"

"Doctor?" one of the stuntmen echoed. "You're a doc?"

Carlisle answered this last question first. "I am. I have a doctorate in history. My specialty is in weapons production of the 1600's. I'm also a marksman."

"Good thing," another stuntman murmured, his eyes wide on the matte black muzzle of the 19mm Walther P99, a German semi-automatic pistol.

"Don't worry," Carlisle said with a small smile. "I haven't killed anyone lately."

Emmett snorted. Loudly. Carlisle shot him a look.

"Now, the best thing to do is assume the firearm is loaded," he told the assembled stuntmen. "Watch the actors as they handle their weapons and try to move likewise."

After each stuntman handled the weapon they were assigned, the actors were called over for essentially the same lecture.

Emmett stuck around. "Hey, Carlisle?" he whispered at a level no human could hear.

"Yes?"

"Any chance I could start a gun collection at home?"

"Not in my house, Emmett."

"Aw, Dad," the man-mountain whined. But his golden eyes were twinkling.

Carlisle laughed quietly. "Let me get these picked up. I've got a fencing lesson with Henry after this."

"Henry? You mean the one who—"

"The very one. So let me finish here. You'll be all right overseeing your men?"

"Does a bear—"

Holding up his hand, Carlisle laughed loudly. "You would know!"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Next up: The Cinematographer. You might be surprised...**


	20. Cullens in Hollywood, Edward

**Cullens On Set**

**Part Three: Cinematographer - Edward**

**Inspired by Bells. Just Bells. **

**Thanks so much for sharing this little miniseries with me!**

* * *

><p>He chose this job for the necessary focus. That, and existence was boring and learning something entirely new provided distraction from the mated pairs in the family. Not sleeping meant he had been able to apprentice under different cinematographers, condensing years of apprenticeship into one year he had spent away from the Cullens. Being independent had been vastly more interesting than another round of high school.<p>

"Edward." Jasper usually sat with unusual stillness in the clichéd Director's Chair. It had his first name on the back with his title. There was artificial lighting, but it was all shaded in this pre-dawn hour. They were shooting on location and the timing was crucial. "Let's frame this."

They already had done so, of course, and the current Cullen abode was a dedicated production studio for all intents and purposes. The storyboard and roughed animated pre-production cartoon had given them a lot of ideas, but this morning, they had to shoot. And Alice had predicted that the weather would be perfect. But only for the next few hours.

Jasper's direction always felt subtle, understated. Edward, though, knew that a lot of that was because he made everyone feel involved in his vision for a film. One recent series of acclaims for his work included praise for his cinematographer, too. Indeed, Ed Masen had a reputation of his own in the industry.

"See it?" Jasper queried quietly, sketching something out with his hands for the benefit of the nearby humans. "Coming in like this, to get this view?"

Edward saw the fullness of Jasper's wish in his mind, of course, and nodded. "I'll just get the cameras ready. We can save time if we get One and Three filming concurrently, leaving Two for the close-ups."

"Make it so," Jasper said, purposefully sounding like Jean Luc Picard from _Star Trek, The Next Generation_. He thought those shows were goofy, but he had never missed an episode.

Edward himself handled the men behind the lenses. He didn't have Jasper's proven persuasive technique, but he did know how each wished to be approached; a benefit of mind-reading. The man on One resented having to do the wide shots, but Edward assured him he was fast finishing his apprenticeship and would be highly recommended in the future. The older fellow on Two was content to wait; he enjoyed the process of piecing a fluid film from a collection of quick, disjointed shots. He barely needed direction at all. On Three, the camera operator was relatively new, and he had developed a crush on Ed Masen. Grimacing inwardly, Edward did his best to encourage the young man's budding skill for camera work while squelching his romantic leanings.

Around them, the cast arrived in ones and twos, their minds fuzzy or grumpy due to the early hour. More noise. More aggravation. More feigned romances surrounded by scripted danger.

Inside himself, he longed for something _real_. Something _beyond_ the scope of cinematography.

Jasper, catching his emotive outpouring, called silently, _You all right there, Edward? Someone giving you grief?_

Shaking his head, Edward found a reassuring smile and slid it on his face. It didn't fool the director, but it let him know that all was in readiness.

There would be no mistakes if he could help it. Focusing tightly on the minds of the camera crews, he settled into his chair, steepled his fingers, and waited.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Next up, the Location Manager. But which of the Cullens gets that job?**


	21. Cullens in Hollywood, Esme

**Cullens on Set**

**Inspired by Bells. Just Bells.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Four: Location Manager: Esme<strong>

"I know, me either. Never thought I'd see the day when I could make a phone call so far from anywhere." Esme grinned like a little girl as she held her BellSouth/IBM Simon Personal Communicator. "But really, I'm so glad. I'll fax you the contract and then we can get everything signed, all right?" Esme had seen many amazing things since her dearest Carlisle had changed her in the 1920's, but this had to be the best thing since telelvision. A mobile telephone! And it was only 1993! Still the twentieth century and there were these fantastic devices. It had only cost nine hundred dollars, too. For this kind of convenience.

"Emmett is so jealous of you right now," Jasper's voice said into her ear. "I can see it blading out from him."

"He can darn well buy his own," Esme retorted. "He's not the one trying to hustle a new location." After the "Spring Break Quake" in Scotts Mills, Oregon, one of their pre-arranged locations for this production had been considered unsafe by local standards and Esme had been doing her very best to find a substitute location. She had an eye for detail and no actual need to sleep, so she had been successful in scouting multiple locales "If he promises to help me prep this site, though, I'll let him play with mine until he decides to buy his own."

Jasper laughed. "I'll let him know. Thanks, Esme. Will you be staying out there until we arrive?"

She laughed a little helplessly and looked with sharp eyes at the location in southern Washington State. Clouds made a heavy canopy overhead without interfering with the telephone's reception. "I have a lot of work to do, Jasper. I think you'll have to rely on Alice..." She let that trail off, knowing what Jasper's response would be.

Laughter. Quiet, but long-lasting chuckles into the phone. "Oh, I suppose I can handle that," he drawled. "Shall I notify your husband, Mrs. Cullen?"

"Thank you. Tell him I'll call his hotel room this evening."

"Yes, ma'am."

She ended the call and slid the phone into her hobo bag before taking out her notepad and a pen. Oh, she could have taken notes on the Simon Personal Communicator, but she worried about the battery life and she had to be able to call Carlisle later.

She took notes as she walked about their newly-contracted location. This was for the expense account more than anything else. Her own memory, of course, could keep track of all the details but her memory would not be used as justification for monies spent in production.

"Rebuild the façade to imitate the warehouses," she said as she made her notes. "Ha, first thing Emmett's going to do if he wants to play with my Personal Communicator."

* * *

><p><strong>EN: For those of you who have been asking... The timeline here is 1993. Star Trek, The Next Generation was a huge hit and BellSouth/IBM Simon Personal Communicator was the hot toy for the rich and super-busy. It was a precursor to the iPhone, some of have said. **


	22. Cullens in Hollywood, Jasper

**Cullens on Set**

**Inspired by Bells. Just Bells.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Five: The Director - Jasper<strong>

_Once, I commanded armies_, Jasper reflected in wry silence. He heard Edward's soft scoffing sound four feet away but ignored it as no one else would have heard either Jasper's own thought or Edward's quiet response.

Directing a film required a discipline that was vastly different from that he had acquired during the Southern Wars. He didn't draw up battle strategies; he created filming schedules. He didn't manipulate intelligent people toward destruction and victory; he influenced them to multiple repetitions of the same actions to create a unified story. Instead of exercising a vicious dominance, he had to balance delicate personalities.

And come in on time and under budget whenever possible, of course. Producers could be more ruthless, in their way, than Maria ever had been.

He nodded at the young man serving as his Assistant. Peter, his name was. Jasper had thought wryly of his old friend when this human Peter applied for the job. Old Peter would never have stood for the subservience under which Young Peter labored. "We're ready."

"Places!" Peter called, using his hands as a bullhorn. The actors moved quickly as Jasper sent a purposeful wave of *concentrate* in their direction. Actors hit their marks, noted the camera angles and, he could feel, brought their emotions to bear for their characters.

He understood it was a process and he gave them a few moments.

Peter called, "Quiet on the set!" far too loudly. Jasper withheld his sigh. Young men were young men, no matter the century.

With a nod to Edward, Jasper finally said, "And...go."

The actors went through with their scene, the weapons out, their expressions set as the overhead mics followed well out of camera-shot. But the lead male was not concentrating. Jasper detected an apathetic vibe coming from him, as if the wide shot were a waste of time.

"Cut," Jasper directed, rising to his feet.

There was a collective intake of air; Director Jasper Whitlock-Hale rarely got out of the chair. It had been a conscious decision on Jasper's part. There wasn't a set of eyes on set that wasn't watching him; he didn't have to call attention to himself. Vitriolic explosions of direction worked well for some, to be sure, but Jasper didn't need that. Nor did he want it. He liked it low-key, on his sets. For an empath, low-key was good.

So when he rose to cross the small expanse of taped-down wires, strips of indoor-outdoor carpeting, and slippery ground, he could feel the apprehension. With the lift of a brow, he singled out his male lead. "C'mere."

"Yes, sir?"

_Sir_. That was nice. Jasper smirked as he led the man a few feet away. "Look. I know the wide shots aren't your favorite, but you're a professional. Act like it."

Shock flared from the man, followed by annoyance and then embarrassment. Jasper clapped him on the shoulder, infusing the actor with a heavy dose of cooperative feelings.

"Of course, sir. You're right. Just having an off morning. Bad coffee."

Nodding, Jasper let that go. "Fine, then. Let's make this next take stick, all right?"

Make-up people fluttered in, the lighting crew adjusted small directionals and Edward's amusement was palpable. Jasper found his wife's eyes and smiled a little. She sent him a burst of encouragement and something that felt like a cheerleader's _Go, Team_.

He had to smile; his Alice was perfect.

Then, he settled back into his chair and caught Young Peter's eye. "Shall we?"

"Quiet on the set!" the human said, still too loudly.

Jasper steepled his fingers under his chin. _Once, I commanded armies._


	23. Cullens in Hollywood, Emmett

**Cullens on Set**

**Inspired by Bells. Just Bells.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Six: Stunt Coordinator: Emmett<strong>

He loved making things go _**boom**_.

But explosions weren't on the shooting schedule that day, so Emmett McCarty kissed his hotter-than-hell wife and ambled out of their trailer. It was, of course, a made-over Airstream. He and Rosie liked the modern conveniences of the nineties, but sometimes it was comforting to have spruced-up reminders of their time. Their _real_ time. So the Airstream was shiny and polished and...and looked like it came from the 1940's. Not quite the thirties they'd come from, he and his wife, but close enough.

"Mr. McCarty!" one of the PAs jogged up to him, holding two cups of coffee. Emmett took it to warm his hands - he had to handle humans that day and did his best to blend in - "We're in Two, this morning."

"Thanks, kid."

He nodded at the early risers, glad that the clear sky wasn't showing any direct sunlight along his route to the soundstage. Entering the darkened building, he made his way to the area he'd prepped the day before. There was a combination fist-fight and gun battle to work out that morning and his people would be arriving in ten...nine...

While he waited, Emmett inflated "the landing pad" and double-checked the integrity of the body armor.

"Safety first!" Alice called from across the building.

"Making the first shoot of the day all sparkly?" he asked as he monitored the air pressure on the inflatable pad.

"You bet. First time inside The Boss's Office and I wanted to add some details."

Alice Whitlock-Hale's details were joked about privately. She included odd things into her sets. It amused her and made some repeat moviegoers very curious, enough so that they bought multiple videos just to find out why she had included some of the details. No one complained.

The stunt crew arrived and gathered around the bag. "Hey! Body armor. Awesome. So what're we doing?"

Emmett sketched out the scene they'd be working through, today. "You and you, with the body armor. And you," he went on, pointing at the stunt double for the primary Bad Guy, "c'mere."

He led them through a blocked-out fight, showing how best to lift the opponents to throw them out the prepared window and onto the bag. "Keep yourself aware of the edges, there. The window's bigger than it would be on a real building, but if you hit it, it'll hurt."

"Or the wall will fall over," a sturdy woman joked. The others laughed; all had participated in set-destruction at least once.

Emmett laughed. "Hey, when we're done with filming, I say go for it. We'll have a field day. But not today."

For all their reputation for being strong and foolhardy, the people in the stunt crew were very cautious. Emmett had seen burns and broken bones and dislocated joints and all carded stuntmen had felt them. So they were careful and situationally aware.

Didn't mean they couldn't have fun, though.

Emmett had to pretend he didn't hear the whispers among his team. They were really good, and a human would have missed the action entirely. So when the Villain's Stunt Double whistled sharply, Emmett had to pretend to be taken totally by surprise. And when they all rushed him, hefting his considerable, muscular bulk over their heads, he had to restrain the urge to fight them off. And when they tossed him to the still-inflated crash pad, he had to let himself fall. Professionally, but fall.

And when the thing exploded? Well, that he had to play off. "Didn't know I had it in me, did ya?"

Alice's sharp voice carried far too well. "Emmett! If you broke my set...!"

He reveled in the laughter that surrounded him as he bounded up from the middle of the deflated pad. "Not today!"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Yep, just one left to go, as it happens. There is a reason I left Alice for last... Thank you so much for reading this little mini-series! It's been a nice break for my brain! :)**


	24. Cullens in Hollywood, Alice

**Cullens on Set**

**Inspired by Bells. Just Bells.**

**A/N: Why this came out mostly from Edward's head, I don't know. It just did.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Seven: Set Decorator: Alice<strong>

"Alice?"

"Yes, Edward?" she answered from the closet in the set. "Am I in your light?'

"Hardly. Even if you were, there's barely enough of you to make a shadow," he teased. Crossing the set at three in the morning, he came to stand near her prop table. Since it was just the two of them at the moment—Jasper being in the editing studio with the dailies—there was no need to hide their abilities. Alice had hefted a three-hundred-pound table across the soundstage while singing a song called "Hakuna Matata."

Only the two of them knew it wasn't a song that would be heard by the general public until the following year. _The Lion King_ was not ready for release yet, but Alice said the Disney movie was going to be a huge hit.

She would know.

"So what do you want?" Alice inquired, not pausing as she carefully arranged shoes and belts and strung up a certain kind of lightbulb in the closet's interior.

Pointing to a symbol sketched on the back plywood wall of the set piece, he asked, "What's that for?"

"It's a sign for toxic waste."

"I know that, Alice. Why's it in the closet? That's not even in the script."

Her laughter danced in the air between them. "So? I was _testing_, you know, and when my thoughts lit on this, I saw a whole series of things happen in my head and moviegoers are going to start speculating and buying the videos and it'll be huge." She ended with a rush, golden eyes twinkling. "Just you wait."

Edward couldn't help the incredulous gasp that escaped from him when he saw what she brought forth in her mind. "Wow. That's...wow. Really?"

"Well, you know. Decisions change, but yeah."

"Wow." He grinned and mussed her hair. "And it'll all be because of you."

They chuckled and he turned to examine her other little touches on the set before Alice made a sharp, surprised sound. "Oh!"

"What is it?" he asked, resigned to hearing about the new Fall Fashions.

"Phoenix. They're moving to Phoenix...who _are_ they? Huh."

Edward turned then and, motionless, read his sister-of-kind's thoughts effortlessly. A woman and a girl. Mother and daughter, likely. The little girl was not happy and kept looking somewhere else, her eyes tearing up. Those eyes... She had the look of a heartbreaker, for sure. Huge, doe-soft eyes, alight with sorrow and intelligence. "Who is she?"

Alice made a dissatisfied sound. "I don't know. I just wish I could make her feel better. She's so sad." She withdrew into herself, pursuing further details of this vision and Edward eased out of her immediate thoughts. He got the closest thing to dizzy as he could, when she was like this.

"Baseball. They're going to do that. Huh. Ballet... Ouch. Huh."

"What _is_ it?" Edward finally demanded after Alice had made more of the same _Huh_ sounds.

"I don't know. But. But I will. We will," she concluded slowly. "I _think_."

Sighing playfully, Edward turned from her. "I'm going to find your husband. _I_ think you need a break."

Alice watched him go, her mind settling again. Thoughts of the dystopian television series subsided. Notions of handsome actors and a really interesting sex scene with a woman who had a tattoo like the symbol in the closet melted somewhat.

The woman in the Phoenix dream that involved baseball and a trip to a hospital and a ballet studio had said one name, over and over and over. Alice couldn't hear what the name was in her vision, but she was an adept speech-reader.

_Bella. Isabella Marie Swan!_ the older woman had repeated.

"Isabella Marie Swan. I wonder who she is?" Alice whispered into the empty soundstage.

Something about the quality of the vision made her believe that she would know Isabella. Someday.

They all would.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: And that's a wrap on this mini-series! Not the drabble collection, though. It's still 2012. :) Thank you for following along! ~LJ**


	25. Where's Carlisle?

**For MegsD's Birthday!**

This woman has made a ton of banners for me as WELL as book covers for a couple of my novels and I love her to pieces.

She wanted something with a _twist_.

**BD AU**

* * *

><p><strong>Where's Carlisle?<strong>

"He's at home," Esme told Edward. She had had nearly as much practice as Carlisle in keeping her thoughts hidden from their "eldest" so she knew he couldn't see beyond that. She filled her thoughts with Bella's pale, frightened form.

Her new daughter stiffened a little in Edward's arms. "Oh?"

Rosalie stepped up, inserting herself smoothly between Edward and Bella. Edward growled in protest but Bella, Esme was pleased to note, stood with her shoulders straight.

"I've got you, Bella," Rose whispered. "Yes, Carlisle's at home, Edward. We'll see him when we get there."

Esme rode with Rosalie and Bella, while Jasper, intertwined with Alice, tossed his keys to Edward. Emmett went with them. They had it planned this way, before heading to the airport to meet their honeymooners.

"I love you," Bella whispered before getting into the car. "I'm sorry this is making you mad, but I have to protect him."

Esme's eyes stung with venom as she enfolded the girl in her arms. "Sweetheart, we'll all protect him. Edward will see it is for the best. He will."

Rosalie snorted and got behind the wheel of the car. "He better or Emm'll rip his arms off."

"No!" Bella gasped in protest. "No, don't hurt him."

Esme winced visibly and exchanged a look with Rosalie via the rearview mirror. "No one will hurt Edward unless he tries to..." Bella whimpered. Rose grimaced, her fingers tightening about the steering wheel. "Unless he's an idiot."

"There, there," Esme cooed into Bella's hair. "Poor child. You've been so brave." She moved her head so that Bella could see her face. "I can hear his heartbeat."

"So can I," Rose put forth from the front.

"So...you think it's a boy, too?" Bella asked, her voice rising in expectation.

Esme smiled in the ageless way of mothers. "There _is_ a fifty-fifty chance..."

Bella's shadowed eyes softened and she leaned more thoroughly into Esme's body. "Thank you. Thank you for believing."

It was quiet for a while, and Esme considered all the preparations they had made for Bella's coming. "We have a nursery decorated," she told the human girl in her arms.

"Really?" Bella's heart thumped like a wild thing. "Oh, Esme..."

"Emmett bought the kid a teddy bear already."

Bella laughed and she didn't notice when Esme caught Rosalie's eye in the mirror yet again.

"She is going to flip out and cry," Rosalie warned, her voice far outside of Bella's hearing range.

"It will buy us time," Esme shot back, her hand at Bella's back where she could feel the life within the human.

"Time for what?"

Here, Esme couldn't have said for certain. "Time to convince them both. We'll figure it out."

Bella stirred, clearly annoyed. "Look, I know you are talking about something."

"Just things to keep the baby safe," Esme said. "We've got a hospital bed set up for you and everything, so that you can be comfortable and change positions during the day. It is so uncomfortable, being pregnant."

Bella rubbed her lower abdomen. "He kicks, you know."

Rosalie's sharp breath was followed by a smile "That's great, Bella. He's gonna be so strong. Have you thought of a name?"

They chatted until Bella fell asleep.

When she awakened, they were at the house in Forks. All felt quiet. Esme was relieved to see that Rosalie had beat the other car to the door. "Come on, before all hell breaks loose," Esme advised.

In spite of the circumstances, Bella had to laugh. "Esme! Language!" She was able to walk on her own steam into the house. Seeing the bed, set squarely in the middle of the living room, she turned to Esme and Rosalie. "Down here? Really?"

"Carlisle thought it best, in case we needed more equipment...later."

Bella paled but bit her lip and nodded her head. "Of - of course. Where is he, anyway?"

The other car sped up the drive, its motor loud enough that even Bella could hear it. "Carlisle?"

Just then, Bella screamed, her voice piercing until it cut off as if she'd been knifed. Edward crashed through the door, leaving splinters everywhere, but Rosalie already had the unconscious girl safely in her marble arms. Esme stood in front of the object that had caused her newest daughter such distress.

"Esme!" Edward shouted, his voice rattling the windows. "If she's even scratched —"

"She's _fine_, Daddyward," Rosalie said with a superior air. "She just saw something that scared her."

"What?" he demanded, his mouth open as if he could figure it out by drawing in air. And then he caught the tell-tale scent and his gaze fell to Esme's feet.

Carlisle's watch. Attached to his arm. Which was still scrabbling, trying to free itself from between Esme's feet.

Frozen, Edward could only stare. "Esme. What did you do?" he rasped.

Esme did not look away from the desperate angst in her son's eyes. "I took him apart. He'll get put back together soon. Neither he nor you will hurt my daughter-in-law _or_ grandbaby. Is that understood?"

* * *

><p><strong>EN: Uh, I'm guessing that's _understood_. Yes, Esme was a wee bit OOC...hey, I did say this was AU. :D**


	26. Alpha

**A/N: Howdy!**

**I know it's been forEVer! I'm so sorry! Been super busy and haven't written anything Twilighted at all for a bit. **

**BUT I thought I'd share this with you - tentative first chapter of my Sam/Bella story **_**Vantage Point**_**, which is in progress. I say "tentative" because I won't post it until it's complete to the final chapter and things might change between now and then.**

**For now this is an AU in which Sam is Alpha in a rather different tribal dynamic...**

* * *

><p><em>Hey, they want a meet! <em> Quil had been in his human skin but phased wolf to pass the message along. Via the lupine telepathic bond they all shared in the pack, Sam could still catch the scent of the Cullen who had come to the Treaty Line. It was the doctor, the blond male who worked at Forks General Hospital. _Leech_.

_Damned bloodsuckers, they really know how to ruin my night,_ Paul groused from his run near Strawberry Bay to the south. The sun was setting with late summer clarity over the Pacific Ocean. _Rachel's waiting, and she's making my favorite fried chicken!_

_Go on, we're good here,_ Sam told the junior members of his pack. _Seth is on soon enough and we'll keep it close to the Rez, tonight. _

_I've got your back for the meet-n-greet,_ Quil offered.

_Thanks, but go on home. Embry'll be on soon, too._

An uncomfortable eye-roll was communicated from Quil. _Really, Sam. I've got nothing else to do. _ Her absence still ached, like an old arthritic pain, but in his chest.

Sam ignored it, as Quil had asked him to do, years ago. _Rest. Go to a movie. Read a book, damn it, but you're off duty. I don't want to hear you for at least eight hours._

_And who's watching the Alpha, huh?_ Quil joked. But he was clearly running for home. Sam recognized the familiar trees on the Quileute Reservation. Quil usually took a water-the-trees break on his way back home so Sam did his best to filter that out of his own mind.

Paul's perspective showed speeding trees as the younger man raced back to his imprint, his wife.

For himself, Sam shook his head in that awkward way he was long used to and loped off to his house. It was a modest home, but there were three bedrooms. It was in part a gift from the Tribal Council and part of it a labor of appreciation from the pack. Built low to the ground, there was a substantial kitchen with freshly-painted cupboards (courtesy of Sue Clearwater), a good solid maple dinette set (a gift from the entire Black family) and there were plenty of kitchen towels and cooking and baking ware – many of these gifts were meant to be anonymous expressions of appreciation from different families. Sam had inherited some of them from Old Quil, and some were more recent tokens.

His whole house was decorated in what he termed Tribal Gratitude. It made him smile. At least there were feminine touches around the place. Just no actual females.

The pack's Alpha Male had yet to imprint.

In his head, Sam had an idea about that. Either his inner wolf was incredibly particular or he was not meant to imprint, as Alpha, because he had other things he had to do and his wolf did not want to be distracted by the mating imperative the Elders had spoken to him of, in private moments. From the time he started getting feverish, the Elders had started taking him aside. Billy Black and Old Quil had been in the prior Pack and they shared how it had been for them, the phasing, the learning, the fighting.

And the sex. Because once the males who would be werewolves were feeling their genetic heritage, their libidos tended to get activated in a big way.

"And you have to be careful," Chief Black had cautioned. The diabetes was kicking his ass by then, but he was trying to fight it.

"About what? Please, not the 'safe sex' lecture, Chief." Sam had grimaced, even with as much respect as he had for the Elders.

Billy Black chuckled. "Not gonna do that one, Sam. As a werewolf, you won't have to worry about all those – diseases around and about now." He sighed a little, his dark eyes shadowed as he bowed his head for a moment. "You gotta be careful with yourself, and make sure you aren't making a lot of little Uleys, hey?"

Not the "keep clean" lecture, then. The "keep it wrapped" lecture. "Gotcha."

Old Quil elaborated about a week later. "I need to tell you something, Sam."

"What?"

"It's personal and private but you gotta know it, all right?"

The heaviness of the old, gravel-rumbled voice had Sam hunkering down next to the Elder's rocker. The Atearas' fire was warm but not too much so, the scent of old wood curling nicely with smoke and apple cider. "What is it?" he wondered, after waiting for what seemed like forever.

"Wolves mate for life, you know," the Elder said, his voice craggy and secretive. "Same goes for us."

Sam nodded. "Okay." He wondered if the mystical wolf-gene had an anti-divorce directive in it. Then, he snorted aloud. "I guess my dad didn't get the memo?"

Quil stiffened his spine and glared into the fire. "Joshua Uley was not a spirit warrior. You are."

Chastened and curious, Sam could only acknowledge this. "So, what does that have to do with me? I have to choose wisely or something?"

With a deep breath, the Elder shifted a little in his chair. "It is possible that you won't have a choice, Samuel."

"What?" Bouncing to his feet, Sam shook his head. "You are not going to set me up in some kind of weird tribal arranged marriage crap, Quil Ateara." Inside, he cringed. What if there was some kind of, of _inhibition_ with this shapeshifting stuff? What if they did set him up and did some kind of hinky ceremony? At this point in his life, when he knew how it felt to be covered in fur and to run on all fours, his body pounding and burning and exulting by turns, Sam discounted nothing.

That didn't mean he liked the idea.

Quil lifted a hand, a half-smile making him a bit more youthful-seeming. "No, no. That's not our place. What I meant was that sometimes, our wolf chooses. Happened to me. Happened to Billy's grandfather. Every generation, one or two of us have had that choice made for us, Sam. It's called imprinting."

Sure the Elder was pulling his furry hind leg, Sam snorted. "Like geese. Right. Tell me a new one."

"I tell you, boy, it happened to me." Quil, as a revered Elder, could actually get away with calling the notional tribal chief a boy. "It's something you need to be prepared for." He blew out a breath, rocked a little, and smiled with a wreath of memories clearly turning pleasantly in his mind. "We have a responsibility, Sam, to provide protection for our people. And to provide a new generation of protectors, too. My son didn't phase; he didn't have to. But I am guessing that my grandson might, if – if he is needed. The imprint helps."

Confused and suspicious, Sam hunkered down again, facing Old Quil. "How?"

"Sometimes, our spirit warrior needs a particular mate. One who will give birth to a strong child, male or female, who will contribute to the strength of the pack. The wolf will tell you when you meet her, if you are destined to do so. You'll recognize her. She will be everything you have ever dreamed of, and you'll want nothing more than to protect her and cherish her for the rest of your life together." His voice warmed as he shared this, and Sam could hear that this was a man who had loved his woman greatly and one who believed in this imprinting thing. "We have shared the stories, over the generations, and we have found that the wolf cannot recognize your mate in his spirit wolf form. You have to be a man to recognize her, because that is how you will breed."

"Hold on –"

"No, let me finish," Old Quil insisted without rancor. "That's the purpose of the imprint. When you meet her, when you see her eyes and she sees yours, you will feel as if your world has been turned inside out. She will from that moment on be the only female you will see. You will love her and be happy just to be near her, but you will want to _take_ her as your _mate_, Sam. That's the meaning behind it. It happened to me; I know what I'm talking about."

Unsettled and instantly restless, Sam rolled up to his feet once more and paced around Elder Ateara's living room. "What about your wife, Quil? Did she just get this, this urge to have sex?" That felt wrong, to Sam. Wrong in so many ways.

"No. And it's something you need to know, Sam. For the imprint, the girl your spirit warrior chooses above all others, there is a choice. But you'll need to be near her and let her choose."

"Choose what?"

"You. She doesn't have to, and if you imprint and she doesn't choose you, we are all here to support you. And, once your wolf learns that his mate is not cooperating, you'll be able to choose on your own. It's not impossible – just difficult." He grimaced and rubbed a knobby-knuckled hand over his jaw.

Having phased back to his human skin after his patrol, Sam hit the kitchen to get himself a quick dinner before having to prepare for the meeting with the Cold Ones. He was reminded of that whole imprinting issue by virtue of the unobtrusive feminine touches he could see. "My wolf wants to mate," he muttered, frying some chicken on the stove. Inside, he was resistant. _Not gonna happen._ He didn't even think he _wanted_ it to happen. Quil had gone insane when he'd imprinted. Years ago, it had been, and the girl had been thirteen. Hell of a situation. He could still remember the insanity in his friend and pack-brother's mind when Claire's parents had taken her away.

* * *

><p><em>Claire! Claire! Claire! <em>Russet cheeks, long braids, a bright smile and the deepest dimples, surrounded by a sort of _glow_ had dominated Young Quil's mental communications._ She's gone! She's gone! _

_Quil! Contain yourself; your howling will wake up the Rez!_

_They took her. Her parents took her. They moved. Sam, she didn't want to go, she didn't. _

_Did you do anything?_

_No, I swear! You know how I feel about her. _Playful protection, a heart-connection, but not an overtly mating-directed affection. It was difficult to verbalize but the wolf in Sam understood immediately. _ I had to talk to them, and I went with Billy and he vouched for me but they took her away!_

* * *

><p>It had been years. For days, Quil had howled in madness, then he had languished in some kind of deep depression that nothing could rouse him from. Finally, he was able to function on a normal level again, though there was an emptiness inside him, always.<p>

Sam never, ever wanted to feel that way. It terrified him to even think about being so out of control.

He was just finishing his solitary meal when he heard footsteps approach the house. This was not uncommon. He was not a Tribal Elder, but he was considered to be a leader because the Elders deferred to him. It was just that the families unaffected by the presence of the spirit warriors in their bloodlines didn't know exactly _why_ the Elders did so. He cleared his dinner away, took a swig of soda, and reached for a shirt. Having given up all sense of personal dignity around his pack-brothers, he still tried to keep it for the rest of the world.

It wasn't one of his pack brothers; this much he knew by the scent. Those people with whom he dealt day in and day out all had scents that he had internalized. Who else would come by here?

Sam opened the door and felt his eyebrows shoot into his forehead. "Chief Swan, hello."

"Sam, good to see you." The Chief of Police was entirely welcome on the Rez, and was lifelong friends with the Black and Clearwater families. Additionally, since the death of Harry Clearwater a few years ago, Chief Charlie Swan had been a more frequent visitor to Sue Black's place. _Cops and nurses._.. "Er, can I come in or something? There's a problem and I'd kind of like your help."

This was another part of being the Alpha that Sam had taken on a couple of years ago. It was "understood" that he was involved with Tribal Law Enforcement. "Protect and Serve is my motto too, Chief Swan," he said to Charlie, moving out of the way and wordlessly ushering him inside. "Can I get you something to drink?" He noticed that Charlie kept his service weapon on his hip.

"No, no thanks, Sam." Charlie stood in Sam's open living room, thumbs loosely hooked on his belt. "I just wondered if I could get your perspective on a problem I'm having in Forks."

Sam hadn't bothered to tuck in his t-shirt, so he could feel it riding up on his abdomen when he turned and closed the door, hand near the top. "What's the problem?"

"We've been hearing about a blond male, about five-ten or so, who's been seen on the border of the Rez. He's been, well, stalking some girls in town and some of them are from La Push. I just wondered if you'd heard about this?"

Sam stiffened. "Has he, er, _hurt_ anyone?"

"No, and we can't seem to catch him to talk to him. He's only been saying suggestive things, apparently. Harassing 'em. But one of the young women is Leah Clearwater. And two of the others, quite frankly, remind me of my daughter so I guess I'm trying to be proactive." Charlie smoothed his mustache with a practiced, absent swipe of his thumb and forefinger.

It was like there as a click in Sam's head. "Sue's daughter, yeah?" Sam didn't even try to hide his smirk.

"Yeah. But you know, I'm also worried about the others."

"Well, I'll ask around, Chief," Sam said, already thinking it might be the one that got away, that day. "We can't do a whole hell of a lot, though –"

"Until he hurts someone. Yeah. We've got our eyes open, though."

"We will, too. Do you have a picture of this guy or a sketch or something?"

Charlie pulled out a paper from a pocket and unfolded it. "I know it's not real fancy, but some of the girls talked to Mark – he's got pretty good on composite drawings – and this is what we've got."

Sam's nostrils flared. "Oh yeah. I've seen this guy." _Damn it, I was afraid of that. Gotta talk to the Cullens too. Crap_. "I'll make copies and show it around, too. Thanks, Charlie."

The men shook hands and Charlie left. Sam said all that was expected, but part of his mind was remembering the day he became Alpha of the Quileute Wolfpack. Killing this leech would be a pleasure.

* * *

><p><em>Hey, Sam! <em> Seth's mental presence was buoyant, always.

Sometimes, the kid's cheerfulness got on the Alpha's nerves, but most of the time he took heart in Seth's demeanor. Sam had grown up knowing he might phase when his time came – the boys with the right bloodlines had been informed upon entering puberty. For him, the knowledge was a responsibility. For Seth, it had been an opportunity. Occasionally, Sam envied his young pack-brother. _Good timing, Seth. _

And sometimes he didn't. He saw scenery speed by on the way to the Treaty Line as Seth continued. _Can't wait to see the Cullens! Emmett is so cool! He's got the latest Playstation console and –_

_Enough with the leeches, already! _Embry chimed in. _They're bloodsuckers, Seth. _

_The Cullens drink from animals. I eat animals. I'm cool with that_, Seth countered.

Sam snorted, the sound resonant in his lupine muzzle as he ran. _Enough. I can smell them already._

_Me. Too._ Embry informed him, his contemplations dark and annoyed.

_Remember the mind-reader,_ Sam cautioned, gratified when the others immediately focused their thoughts only on the immediate surroundings. They had learned that the Cold One called Edward could read their thoughts as they were thinking them, though he could not probe their memories. _I'll phase human, now._

_Got it, Sam. _

Veering off from the other two, Sam snorted out his muzzle again and stilled, breathing in the _green_ in the air. The earth-scent. The reminders of humanity in a lingering taste of rain. He visualized his body as it was in its proper form, dominating the spirit warrior within. The strange feeling of diminishment always twisted his stomach and heart, for a time. As if the warrior within his psyche didn't really want to let him go, but realized it must.

Once in his human skin again, Sam shook himself, inhaled deeply, feeling the proper muscles of his chest expand and contract. Then, he scooped up his track shorts to get dressed before meeting the vampires.

They still stank, even without his wolf-nose. Grapefruit rind, cotton candy, and burned sugar. The spirit warrior wanted to make damned sure the shapeshifter would always recognize an enemy. He saw them, there in the open, on that stretch of grass. The blond male who was the doctor. Why the man always wore a scarf was beyond Sam, but Cold Ones weren't human and hadn't been for a long time. Then there was the big one, Seth's favorite. And, of course, the mind-reader.

_I really hate you being in my head,_ the Alpha thought strongly.

The bronze-haired leech, Edward, shrugged.

"Sam Uley," Dr. Cullen said in calm greeting. "Thank you for coming." He nodded to Embry and Seth as well. "And you, too. I know that this isn't how any of us choose to spend an evening."

Sharply, Sam nodded. "No, it isn't. So. I hear there's been a prowler. You know anything about him? I caught his scent and even Police Chief Swan is working on the case. Targeting young women." As if on cue, Embry and Seth both growled, their fur bristling in the damp air.

The big vamp rolled his massive shoulders. "That shit don't wash. Where was he seen?"

"Along the borders between the Rez and town. Hasn't done anything overt, but he's a problem. One more thing," he added, his voice like flint, "He's one of those who was with the redhead who killed the last Alpha, Jacob Black."

Dr. Cullen whistled, rocking back on his heels in a move so human that Sam blinked. "We'll keep an eye out for him. All right. I wanted to see you because some of us will be starting school at Forks High. My sons Edward and Emmett, as well as my daughters Rosalie and Alice."

"What about the scarred one?" Sam inquired.

Edward answered, his tone cool and even as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. _Well, hell, it probably wouldn't_, Sam reckoned. "He really prefers to avoid humans when he can. He'll be playing the role of a veteran, returned from his tour of duty and recuperating with his family."

Sam nodded; it made sense. All those scars that one had had to mean he had survived a lot of battles.

With an abrupt shake of his head, he firmed his stance. "All right. The treaty gives you the right to go to town, and we will cease patrolling there. Keep a lookout for the blond one." He stared at the mind-reader. "Can you see what he looks like?"

"Yes. I'll sketch him out for the rest of the family."

_Family. Ri-i-i-ight._ "Fine. Anything else, Dr. Cullen? We have humans to protect."

Dr. Carlisle Cullen smiled easily. "Not at all, Sam. You are much like your great grandfather, you know. Levi was a good man. I'm sure he'd be proud of you."

_Don't patronize me_, the Alpha thought. Aloud, he merely thanked the vampire. "We'll be in touch."

* * *

><p>AN: My thanks to **chef diamond heart **for the grapefruit rind.

I have my twitter link on my profile now (or I will) if you're looking for me. I'm around pretty much every day. Somewhere. lol I'm still here!


	27. Emmett's Snow Giant

**1935, Montana**

**All slang terms taken from Dirty 30's! Slang of the 30's.**

* * *

><p>"This makes me happier than a hound treein' a coon. I tell you, this is the best snowman ever!" Emmett's laugh rolled over the white, glittering expanse as he inserted another minor mountain of snow into the middle of his snow giant. "Swear to Goshen, y'all ain't never seen one like this."<p>

On the ground, the rest of his new family laughingly shook their heads. "No, it's true, son. I have never seen the like of that snow man in all my days," Doc Cullen said, his golden eyes bright in the midday sun.

"All your years!" his wife called, occupied with building an entire castle out of snow. It was tiny, like a doll house, but Esme had an eye for detail.

Edward snorted. "_Centuries_."

Running through the snow, hands dropped to scoop it so that it grew into larger snowballs as he plowed over the ground, Emmett grimaced but forced himself to smile. Rosalie's voice was missing. Rosalie was missing. She had run across the country to Rochester, New York to see her family.

The smile was firmly in place when he returned to his creation. "Edward! C'mon, help me with the head." _Please, brother? I'm dyin', here, _he thought.

Edward stood with arms akimbo. "It's just a trip for biscuits," he said, over-enunciating the slang so that Emmett understood he was playing with the words.

"Is not!"

"Fine. Let's pack it, then you brace yourself and I'll toss it up to you and we can hit it down together."

"Ha! You shred it, wheat!"

Edward rolled his eyes but buzzed around the snow Emmett had accumulated, packing it in as tightly with his two hands as only a vampire could. From a little distance away, Doc and his missus etched tiny lines into the snow they had built up on their ice castle. The only sound that Emmett could hear was the faint crystalline susurrations of snow brushing snow.

Then, "Ready?"

"Yo!"

Carlisle and Esme flashed to join Edward and Emmett grinned, letting the inner melancholy about his wife slide away for a moment. The three vampires caught the sun as much as the snow did, so that Emmett was thinking he could be nearly blinded—if he could get that way—just watching them hoist the giant snowball from the ground. A brief buzz of conversation involving angles and rate of descent (topics which sounded far too scholarly for him to care for at that moment) ensued before the vampires counted down.

"Three. Two. One!"

Emmett focused as the enormous white ball flew up past his line of sight before pausing ever so briefly at the top of its flight to plunge down. He swore, thinking that the final part of the snow giant would crush the rest of his creation.

Laughing, the others in the family jumped up to join him so that four pairs of hands caught the snowball, balancing it carefully to settle exactly where it had to to make the snow giant work.

"Ring a ding ding!" Emmett crowed, leaping off the giant's cold shoulder to the ice-crunched ground. Impulsively, he looped one arm around Carlisle and one around Edward. "Thanks!"

"Emmett, dear," Esme ventured from Carlisle's other side. "It has no face."

"Right!"

He tore off across the white to the house, kicking up snow in two perfect arcs as he went. Esme let out a huge breath. "That was close."

"Nice thought, darling," Carlisle said, kissing her shining hair.

Edward watched Emmett disappear into the house. He heard Emmett's thoughts and his heart ached.

_Far enough, I wonder? Where's my Rose? I know why she left. I know why. I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough. _

Edward heard the self-recriminations over and over as Emmett paused in front of a mirror, his thoughts betraying his feelings of self-hatred that were scrambled amongst memories...

Memories of blood. In the mirror, Emmett's eyes were red.

_Rose_...

He knew the real reason she had run to New York was because she couldn't bear that to look at him. And he was plain dizzy over that dame and he would do anything to make her smile.

"I gotta stop it." He squared his shoulders and nodded at his reflection. "I will. I _will_."

"Emmett!" Edward's voice reached easily to his ear. "A blanket might work for a scarf."

"Right. Snow giant. Right." Something to do to keep him occupied while his eyes lost the crimson taint of his sin.

"What about for eyes, Edward?" he wondered out loud.

"We'll think of something. Come on, let's finish your giant. Then he can fall on Esme's castle."

"Coming!"

He'd finish his giant to show Rosalie and leave it up until she came home to him.

* * *

><p><strong>EN: I was just in a mood. Poor Emmett. I know. **


	28. Edward Calls Charlie

A/N: I don't know if I'll be able to swing it, but I thought I'd try to round out my 2012 drabbles before the end of the year. This is a "Missing Moment" from my E/B angsty fic, **Flatline**, that several readers had expressed an interest in reading.

For those who haven't read it or don't remember it, the story was this: Edward and Carlisle's venom joined James's in changing Bella at the ballet studio in **_Twilight_**. When she awakened, her first instinct was to run and she did, having lost her memories. Edward searched for years for her, Charlie Swan made public appeals. And she was eventually found in Maine, working at L.L. Bean.

This missing moment comes after Bella and her recovered memories are reunited with Edward and they've, er, had an M-rated moment. As this is a T-rated drabble, I'll just move to where Edward calls Charlie as Bella requested.

* * *

><p>When I used my phone to dial Charlie's phone number in the dark apartment, Bella was surprised. A question flew from her lips.<p>

"Wait. How do you know his number?"

Even through the euphoria of having made love with Bella—with my mate—I felt the lingering echoes of pain. The times I had wanted to call Charlie Swan, just to hear the voice of one so beloved of my beloved, had been more numerous than anyone knew.

The phone only rang a couple of times. "Hello?" Hearing his voice made Bella gasp, her hands fluttering as if to find purchase on something, anything.

"Chief Swan, it's Edward Cullen."

The silence was profound. Then, in a voice so flat as to be almost non-dimensional, the man asked, "What. Do. You want?"

I met Bella's eyes and tried to gauge what to say based upon her shifting, communicative expressions. "Sir? My family and I recently relocated to Maine and. . . Bella's here, sir. She didn't remember us, or you, or anything."

"Bella?" His voice broke and my undead heart seemed to clench at the spare sound. "She's. . .she's all right? She's not. . ." He coughed, cleared his throat, coughed again and apologized. "She's all right?"

"She's," I paused, remembering that Charlie Swan couldn't see her, right now. She was...red-eyed. She was profoundly different than she had been as a human. And she hadn't aged. "She's been sick, Chief. My father found her in a treatment center when he was called in on a consultation." The lies came easily. "He's prepared to work with her, of course, but the rest of us aren't able to visit. I want to," I added, my voice thick with remembered sorrow, "but I can't."

He swore. "I'll be out there right away. Uh, keep an eye on her, all right? And uh, don't let her go anywhere. She's not going anywhere, is she?"

Bella shook her head frantically, but I didn't know if that had to do with not wanting to see her father or her fervent non-verbal declaration that she would not be going anywhere. "She's in treatment, Chief. I don't think anyone can see her in person except the medical staff."

"Well, can I _talk_ to her? Cullen, hell, I have to— You have to— I need to talk to her!"

I cocked my head at Bella. "Well?" I whispered, so quietly that the phone's microphone would not have registered it.

"Tomorrow. I'm asleep. It's late," she rolled her hands and dragged a remnant of the shirt I had been wearing to cover herself before bouncing to her feet.

"Chief? I'll have Carlisle arrange a call in the morning, after Bella's awake and has been apprised of the situation."

I heard him inhale and even sniffle a little. "I'll be right here. I have to, Cullen, hell, I— You have no idea."

Though my sufferings had been acute, I knew he was right. I had never been a father and could not imagine his pain. "I don't, sir. But I hope you'll be relieved soon."

We closed off our conversation and I tossed my phone to Bella's utilitarian sofa. She launched herself at me, her mouth working with inarticulate sobs.

"Edward, Edward, Edward. Oh, thank you, thank you."

Tenderly, I held her and rocked her as I might a child, just for a few moments. "I love you," I reminded her.

She smiled and moved so I could see her face. "I love you, too."


	29. Prince Charming

**Prince Charming**

**Pairing: Jasper/Bella from the _Enchanted_ AU (see my one-shot on my profile)**

* * *

><p>"Jasper? What are you doing with those?" My mother stood in front of me, her iPhone in one hand and a professionally printed program in the other, staring up with her wide gray eyes.<p>

I had to laugh a little; I actually had butterflies in my stomach—something that I hadn't felt since I asked Maria Delacruz to Homecoming in my junior year of high school. "These?" I asked, holding up the pair of glass slippers that used to grace the shapely feet of one Isabella Swan, former Rose Queen and soon to be Seattle Grad Student. "I'm going to wait for Cinderella and make sure they fit, of course."

Mom smirked, her elfin features becoming mischievous. "I could just call Rosalie Hale so you could return them to _her_, as she is in charge of the costume."

"What? No!" Shaking my head, I paced a little. "It's got to be Cinderella, Mom."

"Why?" she asked from behind me.

I stared out a window into the California afternoon, not really seeing the manicured lawns of the Huntington Library. What I saw was the fairy tale come to life who had taken over my entire imagination that day. "Because. I'm her Prince Charming. And I have to return them to her so I can—"

A rustle of fabric interrupted me and I spun around, already feeling an embarrassed flush creeping up my neck. "So you can what?"

There she was, large and life and twice as pretty in what I guessed were her street clothes as she had been in costume. In a spaghetti-strapped, pale green sundress, Isabella Swan still looked like something out of a story. All the way down to a pair of white sandals with criss-crossing straps. "So I can give you back your glass slippers," I said, remembering my train of thought.

"I have to whisk away everyone else," my mother informed me briskly, her voice practically vibrating with an _I told you so _vibe that didn't quit. "So Isabella? Thank you _so_ much for your participation this year." She smiled and managed—my mother always did the right thing, as if she knew in advance what that right thing was—to capture Isabella in half a hug. "The Library really appreciates your representation."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Whitlock-Cullen. It was my pleasure."

Once my mother's heels had click-clicked away, I turned my attention to Bella. _Prince Charming, _I reminded myself. _Come on! _"So, I was going to give you back your slippers."

She smiled, her cheeks flushing like a work of art. "You said that."

I winced in an exaggerated manner. "I know. So, when do you head up to Seattle?"

"Next month." She smiled a little and looked down at her feet. "I'll need to find a job and everything, get the housing gig figured out."

I nodded. "Of course. Well, do you have friends up there already?"

"Not in Seattle. In Forks, a tiny town a few hours from there, but not in Seattle."

Relief and a strange tickling of delight trickled through me. I extended my hand. "You do, now."

Her eyes, liquid and luminous, opened wide as she slid her palm to mine. My throat went dry and my heart stuttered for a bit. Her lips parted and that was all I could see.

"Thank you, your highness," she whispered.

I closed the distance between us and brought her hand to my lips. "Any time, Cinder-Bella."

Her laughter rang in the room. I bent my arm, she took it with one hand and accepted the glass slippers in the other, and we never did run out of things to talk about as I walked her to her car.


	30. Meeting the Principal

**Meeting the Principal**

**for SagaDevotee**

**Pairing: Charlie/Esme**

* * *

><p>"Dad! C'mon. Don't do a background check on him, please?"<p>

Charlie eyed his teenaged daughter over the rim of his coffee cup. "Bells. This isn't negotiable."

She played with her scrambled egg but didn't drop her gaze. _Good girl. _ "His name is Edward Masen. He's the only child of Dr. Esme Masen. You know, the new principal at my school?"

Willing to play along, Charlie set his cup down and spread some grape jelly on his toast. "And his father?"

Bella did look away at that. Charlie paused, knife poised over the triangle of toasted wheat. His daughter sighed. "He died, Dad. Complications with pneumonia, Edward said."

Charlie nodded and finished spreading the jelly around. "If you don't want me to do a background check, I'm gonna meet him."

"Dad! That's a total abuse of police powers."

"Hon? Don't start this with me. If you'd just dated Jake—"

She huffed and pushed back from the table. "Don't even, Dad. Just. No."

Secretly, Charlie was pleased about that. At eighteen, Bella had had her heart broken by Mike, a boy in her class, only a few months before. Charlie had tossed Jake in front of her as a distraction, nothing more. Hell, the two kids were more like brother and sister than anything and it would have made both him and Billy a little uncomfortable if their kids had made a serious couple. Thank the good Lord Bella had more sense than to take Jake Black seriously. He understood his kid; he'd raised her on his own ever since her mom had run off when Bella had been in diapers. She wasn't going to go with what her old dad said, anyway.

Edward Masen, though, was a good kid. As soon as word had reached Charlie that the boy was sniffing around Bella, Charlie had done what any cop with a database would have.

The background check was already a done deal.

After clattering silverware in the sink and making a noisy production out of the washing up, Bella finally turned around and leaned against the counter. "Fine. Okay. You can come meet him and his mom. She'll be at the school early, probably before you go on shift."

Charlie tried not to grin too broadly; he had a front to maintain, after all.

The following day, with his daughter pouting in the seat beside him, Charlie drove to the high school to meet Edward and his mom. Bella, texting all the while, sat up straight as he pulled into one of the "marked" spots nearest the office.

Hell, there were fringe benefits, driving a black-and-white.

At the entrance to the Administration building, Edward Masen opened the door, grinned crookedly at Bella, and caught her hand before coming down the cement walk to meet Charlie.

"Chief Swan," the young man said, green eyes smiling and looking—aw, hell, he did—proud to be with Bella. "Nice to meet you."

They shook hands and Bella rolled her eyes at him behind Edward's back. Charlie just lifted one brow at her. "You, too, Edward. Is your mom in her office?"

"Sure! She's expecting you."

It was all Charlie could do to keep from laughing. Bella was trying so hard and he appreciated it. She was acting just like any other teenager and Charlie could not have been happier about it.

He put on his cop-face and as he strode through the office corridors to the door that said Dr. Esme Masen, Principal on it. Edward and Bella pushed in first and he followed, to see the high back of an office chair. "Just a minute," a creamy voice called.

"Chief Swan, this is my mom, Esme Masen. Mom, this is Charlie Swan."

"Oh! Pardon me, Chief." The chair spun around and Charlie Swan felt his jaw drop open. An elegant hand reached across the familiar old pine of the desk. Pale skin was visible until the line of her suit jacket, but these were sidelined details to his eyes. What captured his attention was the smooth shine of her hair—lord help him, it looked like caramel—the way her green eyes crinkled when she smiled at him, and the jolt of awareness that zapped through him when they shook hands. "Nice to meet you. Bella's a remarkable student."

Right. Principal. School. Right. "Uh, thanks. Glad you think so. I'm very proud of her. Your son's not so bad, either," he allowed, angling a glance at Edward.

"Dad..." Bella began.

"Can we go now? I have to get to my locker and Bella and I have Calculus."

"Sure," both Charlie and Principal Masen said at the same time.

The teenagers laughed, sounding nervous, but they high-tailed it out of that office quickly enough.

"Dr. Masen," Charlie began, shifting a little so that his leather shoes creaked. "Thanks for letting me come by. I was just wanting to let Bella know I was interested in her relationship with your son," he said, speaking formally but this was a little speech he had half-rehearsed while shaving that morning. He pressed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, but didn't drop his gaze.

Hers warmed and she indicated a chair with one hand, moving around to come sit next to him rather than across the desk. "Not at all, Chief Swan. I think it's wonderful. Too many single fathers are afraid to do just that, these days." Her nod and praise made him feel, hell, powerful and humble at the same time and Charlie didn't know what to do with all of that.

He felt his neck heat up and rubbed at the back of it. "Well, thanks, is all. I appreciate it. I'll just, er, head on to the station, then."

She laughed a little and crossed her legs. And of course he noticed, his eyes catching the way the straight skirt slid up her thigh. "So no background check, then?"

He coughed, embarrassed. "Uh, no." He pushed himself to his feet and she followed suit. "Thanks again," he said, wanting to do something else, say something more, but not sure how to do that with him being the Chief of Police and her being the Principal.

She held out her hand to him again. He took it and watched her face. Her ears grew pink and she dropped her gaze.

Well, now, that he could work with, he figured. "But, you know, I think that a more personal interview might not be a bad idea," he managed to say without choking. "Coffee, maybe?"

Her smile lit up the office. "Saturday morning good for you?"

Billy would give him a hard time, but not too bad. "Sure. I'll call you later, set it up?"

"That would be lovely."

Chief Swan left the Principal's Office with a slight spring in his step. Watching from across the hall, his daughter and her boyfriend stared with wide eyes.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Bella whispered.

"I can't read your mind," Edward reminded her. "But yeah."

"This is gonna be a long year," they lamented in tandem.

And it was.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy New Year, friends and neighbors! See you in 2013!<strong>


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